Show Me The Meaning Of Love
by FuyuMitsukai
Summary: Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** We don't own Harry Potter.

**Warning:** This will contain gay relationships. Don't like it, don't read it. It's that simple.

**A/N:** This story is based on an rp between me and my friend. And I'm going to pretend books six and seven don't exist. That's all you really need to know otherwise, so just enjoy the story and review when you're done. :D

_This chapter has been rewritten. (1 of 6 done)_

---

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter One**

Harry stared moodily out his window, the moonlight glaring back at him and reflecting off his glasses. His birthday was in five minutes and despite the normally happy event, he was brooding because of his current dwelling. Doing what he though Dumbledore would have wanted, Harry had gone back 'home', only to be greeted by an even more hostile 'family' than before.

He snorted. Some family. Even in the faint light, bruises could be seen on almost every bit of visible skin, hinting that the damage went even further than what was visible. A week old cut could be seen just under the collar of his black, long sleeved shirt.

It was strange, really. Along with the daily beatings, he had received new clothes each day. There was a possibility that it was to make up for treating him so badly. That was what they muttered when they handed him the clothes, anyway. Harry knew better. It was only to make sure his injuries were properly covered up and you couldn't do that with tattered clothes. He wondered when the Dursleys would realize that it would be much cheaper for them to just stop beating him.

A brief glace at the clock told him that midnight was closer and that four minutes had run away during him musings. With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the barred window to face the interior of his room. One half of the room was taken over by semi-organized piles of his cousin's broken belongings and the other side held his own belongings. The two sides were never to touch and, honestly, Harry was perfectly fine with that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the clock change, but before he could sarcastically congratulate himself on being another year older, a sharp pain hit him in the middle of the back. His wand was in his hand in an instant, but in the next he was on his knees on the floor. The pain spread from that one spot to all across his back, causing him to gasp sharply. His last conscious thought before he collapsed was how had he gotten caught off guard like that and what was that ripping sound?

---

Miles away, in the dinning room of a beautiful white summer home, the fork slipped from Draco Malfoy's fingers as he felt a jolt run through his body. After waiting all those weeks and months after his veela inheritance, today was the first time he had felt this feeling. That could only mean one thing. His mate had finally turned seventeen.

Severus, who had been watching over Draco in his father's absence, looked up at the boy from across the dinner table. He raised an eyebrow at him in silent questioning. Nothing could shake this boy. So that meant voicing the question was meaningless.

Draco, however, merely shook his head, looking down at his plate again. He would be the last to admit that he wasn't ready, but he knew it better than anyone else. A few minutes later, he stood, pushing his chair back. The silent urging in his body wouldn't still until he found his mate. He couldn't just sit there anymore.

"I need to go."

---

Harry didn't know how long he had blacked out and for a moment, he didn't remember what had happened to have him sprawled out, face down on the floor like he was. The position wasn't so unusual for him, seeing as that was how he ended up most nights after he was beaten. And his shirt was certainly torn up.

Then the moment was gone and he was on his knees, wand gripped tightly in his hand. Dizziness caused his to fall forward again but he caught himself with his hand. Groaning, he lifted a hand to push up his glasses.

His eyes met with the broken mirror a few paces away from him. Brilliant emerald eyes shinned back at him, brighter than before and his somehow longer hung partly in his face. Surprised at the difference, he pushed on the floor so he was sitting back on his heels. What else was different about him? There were some subtle changes, like his eyebrows seemed narrower and his cheekbones were more defined, but no one would really notice that, right?

There were bigger changes. Lifting a shaking hand, he ran his fingers over his the tips of his ears which were now pointed. Had someone cast a Glamour charm on him? Of course not. A Glamour charm wouldn't hurt like that.

That was when his eyes suddenly shifted to the biggest change. Wings. Well that explained the ripping sound.

Not believing his eyes, Harry reached over his shoulder and gingerly touched the place where the black feathered wing merged smoothly with his shoulders. He winced slightly at the contact and drew his hand back. His fingers were bloodied.

"What the hell happened to me?" he hissed softly, staring at his hand.

---

Now, Draco knew what was supposed to happen when he gave into the desire to find his mate. He was supposed to apparate to his mate's side. Oh, he knew exactly what was supposed to happen. But this was not what Draco had expected.

At first, he had no idea who it was that was kneeling in front of him. It must have been the wings and the crappy state of the room that threw him off. His mate couldn't be Harry Potter because Harry Potter was a normal wizard with not magical creature blood in him at all. His mate couldn't be Harry Potter, because hadn't he been told all these years that Harry Potter was worshipped by his muggle relatives?

But, of course, his mate was indeed, Harry Potter. There was no denying those green eyes and that scar. Damn that scar!

Cloud grey eyes fell back to the wings sprouting from Harry's back. The urge to touch them suddenly filled him and he could only manage to stop himself from doing so after he had taken a step forward. The floorboards creaked under his weight and he froze.

At the sound, Harry spun around, wand in his hand and pointed at Draco's heart. His eyes narrowed instantly and his grip around his wand tightened until his knuckles were white. His wings folded tightly against him body as if in response to his emotions. "What are you doing here?" he snarled. His body tensed up, ready to spring into action if he needed to. He felt fear seep its way into his heart. If he fought Draco, there was no way he would win. He knew he was weak from what had happened to him.

And what about the Dursleys? If they woke up, what would they think about having two wizards under their roof? Obviously, they wouldn't be overjoyed.

Draco's trademark sneer brought its way onto his face. "Well, damn, Potter. If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have bothered." His face was a cold and emotionless mask, though his eyes still reflected the confusion, and yes, the worry. Damn his feelings for worrying about Harry Potter, of all people. On that note, damn him for even being fated to Harry Potter!

Harry's wand dropped slightly as he frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?" Suddenly there came a loud creaking from Vernon and Petunia's room. Harry turned towards the door, keeping his wand pointed at Draco. "Never mind. Whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes." Harry stood smoothly and walked slowly to the door, his legs shaking slightly. What he heard through the door made his heart sink.

"... bloody boy can't keep bloody quiet... always having bloody nightmares..."

Harry cursed quietly and quickly moved away from the door, hiding his wand away. Turning to his uninvited guest, he shoved Draco back into the darker part of the room behind a tall pile of Dudley's things. "You better bloody stay here," he hissed.

Draco felt a protest rise in his throat, something he stopped quickly. The look in Harry's eyes and the tone in his voice made Draco wonder what exactly would cause the boys such fear. He stood frozen in the shadows of the room and watched as Harry turned to the ratty looking mattress of a bed. He could hear a soft stream of curses coming from Harry as the footsteps grew louder.

Suddenly the door flung open, admitting a fat, purple-faced man into the room, whose beady little eyes immediately locked onto Harry.

"What the bloody hell do you mean by waking me up, boy!" Vernon's jaw fell when he noticed the wing on Harry's back. "Where the hell did you get those, you bloody freak!?" he yelled, pointing a fat finger at them.

Harry flinched as the man lumbered across the room to him. The words 'bloody freak' rang repeatedly in his mind. He said nothing, knowing that would only anger his uncle further.

"All that hard work on trying to get you to be normal and you get wings! You come with me now, boy. We're going to saw those right off!" Vernon took a firm hold on Harry's wrist and made to drag him out the door whether he wanted to go or not.

Harry felt his temper suddenly flare. "Go to hell!" he yelled, yanked his hand away. Pain ran up his arm and blood fell on the floor with a sickening splash. Clutching his arm to his chest, Harry noticed something flash in his uncle's hand. A knife. Vernon had been carrying a knife again. The instinct to draw his wand was several seconds late and his dizziness prevented him from even doing so before he stumbled and started to fall.

Draco watched in amazement and an anger he never knew he could possess filled him as the conversation between the two continued. He stood silent, however, fighting with himself, confused, if he would ever admit to it. More and more rage filled him, enough so that his pale face was blooming with red, his brows knitted together tightly. Visions of this man writhing in pain were filling his mind, dark, bloody deaths and excruciating torture. Perhaps it was fortunate that the smell of blood wafted into his senses, as it snapped him out of his stupor. He moved from the shadows, catching Harry before he fell. His wand was level with Vernon's eyes before the man could even blink.

"I would suggest, sir, that you not mess with a wizard," he drawled, still holding Harry against him. His face was no longer curled in anger, but perfectly masked, an imitation that he had learned from a many observations of the Death Eaters.

"Exessum."

Draco could read the fear on the man's face as the spell hurtled on him and he didn't even flinch when the man fell to the floor, his body rippling in convulsions. Satisfied that the fat man would be distracted, he snatched a shirt from the floor and wrapped it around Harry's arm quickly to stem the blood flow, at least until he could get him somewhere that he could get him proper healing. Holding onto his mate tightly, Draco closed his eyes, concentration on the destination, and vanished from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own it.

**Warning:** This will contain gay relationships. Don't like it, don't read it. It's that simple.

_This chapter has been rewritten. (2 0f 6 done)_

---

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Two**

Harry absolutely hated the feeling of apparating, but he was grateful for it when it woke him out of his dazed state. The sensation of being squeezed like that could do that to a person.

When they arrived at their destination, Harry's knees gave out again. He could feel Draco's hold around him tighten and he hated how suddenly weak he felt because of it. He hated how comfortable it felt to be held like this. Why the hell...?

'It must be the blood loss,' he thought, shoving the question away before it formed. He looked down at his arm and saw that blood had already started to soak through the shirt wrapped around it. 'That has to be the reason.' As if to confirm his though, a wave of dizziness swept through him and he groaned softly.

"Don't you dare pass out, Potter," Draco snapped as he helped Harry over to the wall with surprising ease. Even with Harry's full weight on him, Draco found that the other boy felt rather light. He felt a rush of anger for the stupid muggles that his mate had to live with. "Did they not feed you anything? You're like a bloody twig." As he helped Harry sit down, he noticed that blood had dripped on the floor. He chose to ignore it. The house elves had had plenty of practice getting blood out of the carpet. A few drops of blood would be no problem.

Once Draco had made sure that Harry was as comfortable as he could get sitting on the floor, with the addition of a silent cushion charm, he pocketed his wand, rose, and hurried to the door. "Stay put if you don't want to bleed to death. I'm going to go get someone to heal you." The door slammed shut behind him.

Harry stared at the door for a few seconds before sighing and leaning his head back against the wall. This was all too confusing. First, he woke up to find out he has wings. Second, Draco Malfoy appears in his room and says something vague. Third, his uncle bursts in and cuts up his arm. And then Malfoy, Draco _bloody_ Malfoy, comes to his rescue.

"What the hell is going on?" he muttered, raising his one good hand to rub the bridge of his nose. Another wave of dizziness shook him and black spots danced before his eyes. This was no good. He needed to stay alert at all times, no matter what state he was in. In an effort to stay awake, he cast his eyes about the room.

The whole room was a beige-white color. The walls, the floor, the ceiling. Everything. A simple, crystal light fixture hung from the center of the ceiling. Harry was grateful for the low amount of light coming from that fixture. With all the white in the room, it must have been blinding with the light at a higher setting. His attention then shifted to a small white table that stood by the door. On top of the table was a beige vase with tiger lilies, the only source of color. There was nothing else in the room. It was a simple room and Harry could only guess that is was for the soul purpose of appariting and disapparating from where ever he was.

Now that raised a good question. "Where am I?"

Harry never heard the door open, so he jumped when a voice answered his question. "The Malfoy's summer house."

Harry's wand was out again and he found that he was pointing it at Severus Snape as he was ushered into the room by Draco, who hurried around him and over to Harry.

"I thought I told you to stay put, you nimwit!" the blond snapped. "Sit back down."

Odd. Harry didn't remember ever getting to his feet.

Impatient with how slow Harry was returning to the floor, Draco reached out to push on his shoulders. Out of instinct, Harry recoiled from his touch and winced when he slammed his wings against the wall. He winced again when he landed painfully on his injured arm, having removed it from his chest to stop himself from falling on the floor too hard. "Don't touch me," he hissed, his good hand searching for the wand he had dropped.

Draco rolled his eyes and knelt in front of him. "Wonderful show of that, genius. What are you going to do? Stab me with a feather?" He looked up at Severus, who was silently observing the two. "Well, are you going to do anything? You know I'm no good at healing spells." Severus raised an eyebrow in return, but before he could speak a retort, Harry snorted.

"I don't need your help," he said stubbornly. His fingers wrapped around his wand and he quickly pointed it at his arm, silently banishing the blood soaked shirt. His wand was snatched from his hand before he could do anything else.

"Oh, look at wonderful Potter," Draco sneered, twirling the wand between his fingers. "Bleeding all over the place and yet still trying to act like a hero."

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry snarled. "I don't trust either of you to do it and I can heal myself just fine." The disbelief in both Slytherins' eyes angered Harry further and he struggled to his feet, only to be pushed back down by the other two. He directed his glare at Draco, who was leaning too close to him for comfort. He let out a strangled sound, shocked at the concern that was faintly written across the boy's face. There was no way he could mistake that look.

Suddenly, Harry was laughing. It was a strained, unhappy laugh that left him slightly hoarse when he finally calmed down enough to speak.

"This is fucking ridiculous! What the hell is going on?" He placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and shoved him back. "Are you going to tell me or are you just going to mock me?"

"In all truth, Potter, I'm rather fond of just mocking you," Draco said simply, earning him a hiss from Harry. "And you can stop whining like a little kid. It's not like you're the only one who's ever been through shit. What's the matter? Can't be thankful for someone who just saved your life? I can take you back, if you want. I'm sure that muggle won't be too pleased when he wakes up."

Harry's eyes flashed. "Go ahead, you great sod. Send me back to the Dursleys'. Prove to me that people like you can't change." He took a panting breath as he fought off another wave of dizziness that had him swaying slightly. He shook it off quickly. "Besides, you're avoiding the question," he said, his voice lowering slightly as he stared steadily back at Draco. "What am I that you seem to so desperately wish I wasn't?"

Draco stared back at him, not saying a word. He moved back after a second, glancing over at the potions master.

Severus raised an eyebrow, then sighed, understanding that Draco wanted him to distract Harry. "Give me your arm, Potter," he said sharply. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he was positive that he knew more than Harry did.

Harry's focus reluctantly turned to Severus as the man grasped his arm and pushed the sleeve back. The blood was cleaned away and the cut slowly sealed back up, leaving no evidence that it had even been there. Then Severus started working on the bruises that were visible. Harry watched, lips pressed tightly together.

Draco stared at Harry as he was being healed, his mind in jumbles. How in the world was Harry Potter, of all people, his mate? It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. But his veela powers had never failed him before, and there was no reason for them to fail him now.

"Are you going to answer my question now?"

Draco frowned at Harry, none too happy with the question that had drawn him from his inner conflict. Sighing, he looked to the side, avoiding both Harry's and Severus's gaze.

Getting the point, the older man left the room. He figured they could sort things out on their own. He didn"t want to be bothered anyway.

Draco waited until the door closed behind his godfather. "You know, I'd rather not answer your question."

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, taking full advantage of the cushion charm. He didn't know who had cast it, but he was grateful. He still hurt all over and the relief from the bruises that had been removed seemed to heighten his awareness of the rest. He sighed, masking a wince with frown. "Fine, then can you explain to me why you saved me from my uncle? Because I have no idea why you would help your enemy. At least none that makes sense."

Draco finally looked back at Harry and shifted uncomfortably. "I'd really rather not answer that one either, Potter."

"Then what will you answer!" Harry nearly shouted, frustrated. "It's not like the answer is 'I love you, Harry. Please don't hate me anymore.'" He dropped the mocking whine and glowered at him. "Just answer the damn question, Malfoy. It can't possibly be that hard."

Draco glared at Harry with vengeance - the boy had no idea how close to the truth he was - then started in a cold tone. "I'm sure you know what a veela is, as well as its allures, Potter. It was very obvious last I saw you near them." He gave him a withering glance. "What you most likely don't know is that a veela has no choice in their mate." He hissed the word 'mate' like it was poison. "No matter how much they would want to..."

**---**

**A/N:** Dun, dun, dun. XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** ... would I be writing a fanfiction if I owned them? No, I didn't think so.

**Warning: **If you don't like guyxguy relationships, don't bother reading, okay? And, oops, they say fuck a lot. Get over it.

**A/N:** My brother and sister are going to kiiiill me if I don't get these done as soon as possible.

_This chapter has been rewritten. (3 of 6 done)_

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Three**

Harry stared at Draco, his lips parted slightly as he thought. Much to Draco's dismay, he found this very appealing on the other boy.

Harry noticed the look in Draco's eyes as he returned the stare and turned away, his wings shifting slightly in his discomfort. He coughed lightly to break the silence.

"So, you're saying that you are a veela," he started slowly, thinking aloud when he saw that Draco continued to stare at him out of the corner of his eye. "And you're also implying that I..." He trailed off, turning his head slowly to look at Draco again as everything clicked into place. "No way," he hissed. "No fucking way."

Draco snorted and tossed his head slightly to get his pale hair out of his eyes. "Exactly why I didn't want to believe it, Potter."

Harry averted his eyes to the floor, quickly going over everything he remembered about veela in his head. He could remember bits and pieces of Hermione's lectures, which surprised him a little.

Veela: magical creatures that are said to be the most beautiful creatures, only rivaled by higher-class elves and faeries, and have one mate for their whole lives. There are four types... what were they again? Oh, yeah. Aerial, earth, pyro, and aquatic. And the three ways that a veela can find their mate. Aerial veela find their mate by spikes of need... how the hell did that work? Oh, the mate experiences them too. Earth veela search by smell. That's simple enough. But that wasn't how Draco had found him. What was the last one? Oh... right. The ability to apparate to their mate's side when both had gone through inheritance at the age seventeen. Both aquatic and pyro types did this...

Harry's head shot up. "What type? Aquatic or pyro?"

Draco's brows furrowed. "What in the world are you on about? 'What type?'"

"Just because you think I'm an airhead, doesn't mean that I am. What type of veela are you? Aquatic or pyro?"

Draco gave an annoyed huff and busied himself with nosing through a bookshelf that appeared out of nowhere [this made Harry jump - was this room like the Room of Requirement?, although he knew exactly what was there anyways. "I don't see why I have to tell you, Potter," he said bitterly, grabbing a leather bound volume from the shelf and pretending to have interest in it.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. He could tell that Draco's apparent distraction was only to irritate him. There was no way that the veela did not know his own type. He crossed his arms. "Don't fuck around with me, Malfoy. I know you know, so just tell me."

Draco's eyes snapped up from the book with a piercing glare. "Fine," he snapped, slamming the book shut and putting it back in its place moodily. "Pyro."

Harry gritted his teeth. 'Damn. The most dangerous and unpredictable type of the four,' he thought bitterly. 'Just my luck.' He lifted his chin, looking Draco over. As the type with the most powerful thrall and allure, Draco could easily overpower him. He had to be careful. "The characteristics are right," he said finally. "Volatile temper, blond hair, tendency to be drawn someone you would normally hate. It makes sense."

Draco raised an eyebrow and walked across the room to him, his boots resounding on the stone floors. He leaned so that he was inches from Harry's face. "Oh, really, Potter? Does this all 'make sense' to you now?"

Harry's eyes flashed and he stepped back a little. "It would make more sense if all the time you spent insulting me and aggravating me was your way of saying that you secretly liked me, but I highly doubt that."

Draco sneered down at him. "Just like you not to listen, Potter. Do you really have a brain in there, or does it all just flush out when you breathe? I said earlier, I don't have any control over it. And if you think it's going to be all lovey dovey from here on out, you're kidding yourself. I hate your guts."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Wonder insult there, Malfoy, but obviously you don't listen either. Because if you did, you would have heard the words, 'I highly doubt that,' saving me from hearing that darling little rant."

"I should have let you die," Draco snarled, moving a hand to grip Harry's shoulder.

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched as he easily sidestepped the motion and he snorted. "You couldn't do that if you tried, Draco." Realizing what he had just said, Harry made a soft noise of surprise and stepped back again, eyes widening slightly. 'What the hell? Where did that come from?' He felt his face heat up and his surprised expression turned into a glare. 'Fuck. He's using his allure.'

Draco crossed his arms, anger dancing in his eyes. "Oh really? You think so, _Harry_? First off, we were _never_ on a first name basis, and second, you know nothing about me."

Forgetting how uncomfortable it had made him feel earlier, Harry stepped forward until they were standing mere inches apart, a fire in his eyes to match Draco's. Something was telling him to step across that distance, bringing them even close, but he angrily pushed it back. "I may not know anything about you, Draco Malfoy, but I do know that veela can not harm their mates in any way. And if you're so goddamn bothered by me calling you by your first name, tone down your allure!"

Having Harry panting before him like he was made Draco stop thinking for a moment, allowing the full meaning of what had just been said to sink in. After a short moment, he smirked, an idea seeping into his head. 'Shouldn't have said that, Potter.' He leaned closer to Harry until their noses were almost touching. "Is it bothering you?" he whispered. "Is my allure too much for you?" He lifted a hand with a sneer, placing the tips of his finger on Harry's cheek, allowing his allure to pour from his body.

Harry's body shuddered in spite of himself and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he tried to step back. His feet wouldn't move. "_T-Thrall_," he hissed out, unaware he had lapsed into parsletongue. "_You fucking git_."

Having no idea what Harry had said, Draco just smiled at his obvious anger. "What's the matter, Potter? Having some trouble there?" He flattened his hand against his cheek and dragged it down to his neck, enjoying the heat coming off of the shorter boy. His slender fingers curled at the base of his neck, fiddling with a strand of that dark hair. "You seem to be slightly... aggravated." The last word came out in a whisper, his breath gliding along Harry's lips from their closeness.

Harry found himself leaning into the touch. He didn't like how easy it was for Draco to do this to him. No, he didn't like it one bit. He gritted his teeth. "Tone it down, Malfoy."

"And what if I don't want to?" Draco let his fingers wander over Harry's neck, unconsciously storing away the information that one particular spot made Harry gasp softly. "I always have wanted to have you shiver before me. Although, I must admit, I would rather it be in fear."

Harry closed his eyes, fighting the urge to kiss the other boy senseless. "I could reject you. And I promise you, I wouldn't feel sorry about it at all."

"That's a lie," Draco said dryly, trying to deny how much that simple phrase had hurt him.

Harry somehow couldn't form the words on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to yell, to tell this boy that he would reject him and that he would be happy doing it. The words just wouldn't come out. Frustrated, he smacked Draco's hand away and stepped back. His wings lifted to curl around him, as if to ward the veela off, and he opened his eyes to stare at the ground between them.

Draco laughed, finding his discomfort amusing. "Weren't you in the process of rejecting me, Potter?"

"Does it matter?" Harry whispered, causing Draco to quell his laughter. "No, of course not. You are going to drag this out as much as you possibly can." His wings drooped, brushing the floor as he stepped forward. He looked up at Draco through half-lidded eyes and lifted a hand to brush a pale cheek. "Can you feel it too?"

Draco's breath caught a little bit as Harry reached out to him and he felt an echo of the thrall pulse through him, stronger than the watered down version he had felt only seconds before. "Not as much as you," he said breathlessly. This was all wrong. He hadn't expected this. Harry wasn't supposed to react like this. He, Draco Malfoy, was supposed to be in total control of himself. He considered pulling back for a moment, but he found he enjoyed the light brush of Harry's fingers, no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

"You've stopped drawling, Draco," Harry observed softly. "Maybe it affects you more than you thought." He searched Draco's eyes, a part of him still fighting to be released from the thrall. Moments passed by and he slowly found that he didn't care. He didn't care that he had lost control of his own thoughts. He didn't care that is was Draco Malfoy who was doing this to him. He didn't care that the person in front of him was another boy. He didn't care how close they were anymore. In fact, he felt that they should be closer. Much closer.

Draco stared down at the brunette laying his head on his shoulder, shocked. A voice in the back of his mind that had been extremely faint up until now, was repeatedly telling him to wrap his arms around Harry. However, his pride and supposed hatred for the boy in front of him was fighting for control over his emotions. "Get off of me, Potter." Try as he might, the cold indifference wasn't in his voice anymore. The poison was gone from his words.

With a twitch of his lips, a part of Harry's mind shook free of the allure. "If it bothers you so much, love," he purred, "tone it down. Any more and I might end up snogging you." He lifted his head and gave him an innocent grin. "Unless you don't want to tone it down." He grasped Draco's hands and pulled them down to meet at his lower back.

Draco was amazed by this new, seductive side of Harry he had somehow managed to bring to the surface. This was something he didn't know Harry was capable off. He cursed inwardly as a shudder ran through him and warmth began to pool in his stomach. He was about to say something when he realized that his hands had run over something on their track down his back. Anger washed over him and he spun Harry around, lifting the tattered shirt enough to see the letters written in scars. "'Freak'?"

Harry gasped at the sudden release from the thrall and flinched at the harsh anger in Draco's question. "It's nothing," he said quickly, pulling away.

Draco caught his arm and turned him to face him. "Tell me. Now."

Harry tried to pull away again, but in his anger, Draco was much stronger than him. He tensed up. "Take a wild guess," he snapped.

Draco felt his anger flare up even more as the memory of that fat man he presumed was Harry's uncle returned to him. "That fucking bastard."

Fear flashed through Harry and before he knew what was happening, Draco had ripped his shirt off somehow and was inspecting his skin for more words. Gentle fingers brushed the newer scars across his back and he shivered. 'If he reacted that way to that word, how will he...'

Harry's question was answered even before he could even finish asking himself. The hand that had been hovering over his hip was now gripping him so tightly that his nails were digging into his skin. He could feel Draco shaking with what could only be fury and he watched as he pushed away from him and pulled out his wand, his knuckles instantly turning white.

"He thinks of you as a 'whore', does he?" Draco said lowly, his hand shaking. "I'll show him what happens when you touch what's mine! I'll fucking kill him! He'll be a whore in hell!"

Surprising himself, Harry snatched Draco's wand from him and wrapped himself tightly around the blond. "Stop it. He was-"

"I don't give a fuck if he was drunk or high or had a bad day," Draco interrupted, his words deadly calm, hiding the burning anger inside him. He stared down at the boy wrapped around him and breathed in his scent in an effort to calm himself. How he longed to throw the fragile body off of him and hunt down that sick bastard. How dare someone like that man call himself family and do what he had done to Harry! How fucking dare he touch _his mate_!

Harry franticly cast about his mind for some way to calm the enraged veela. Words slipped out of his mouth before he had decided to use them. "I don't want you to be a murderer, Draco." He shook slightly as he gripped the front of Draco's shirt to pull his face down closer to his. This was the only thing he could think of. If he could get Draco to focus on him instead, maybe, just maybe, he could calm him down. "Please," he whispered hoarsely, almost choking on his next words. "Just forget about him. I'm yours."

For a split second, all thoughts but Harry flushed out of Draco's head and he started to lean down, stopping just as their lips were about to touch. Harry cursed himself silently.

"I see you know a little of my kind after all, Potter," Draco said softly, pulling back. The angry red color was draining from his face. "Trying to dissuade me by accepting the bond. Smart thinking, but you're stuck with me now. You lost your chance to run away." He took a few steps back, eyes glittering coldly as he snatched back his wand and pocketed it. "You'll soon realize how big a mistake you just made. Just a few minutes ago, Potter, you hated me and you will again the minute I'm gone from this room and my allure has finished attacking your senses." He turned to do just as he said, leave, when he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "It's too late to save me from the life of a murderer," he whispered bitterly.

During Draco's rant, Harry had backed away from him until he hit the wall. The whole situation came crashing down on him. He wasn't safe anymore. He was a veela's mate and by accepting the bond, he had just ruined his only chance to get out of this unscathed. Gritting his teeth, Harry made as if to throw something at Draco, not even knowing why he did it. Both boys watched in amazement as bright blue sparks flew from his fingertips and floated down to the floor. An overwhelming calm fell over the room and Harry slid down the wall. Draco slowly crossed the room to kneel in front of him.

"Do you even know what you did?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "No, I don't."

Draco stood up, glancing around to see the sparks starting to fade. "What the hell are you?"

Harry sighed and draped an arm over his knees. "I don't know that either."

Draco held out his hand. "Let's go find out then."

Harry stared up at Draco's face. This felt familiar somehow, but different. It was like Draco was offering his friendship again, but this time, Harry was seeing a different side of the blond. Draco was different from the stuck up little eleven-year-old he had been the first time. Taking the offered hand, Harry allowed Draco to help him to his feet. "Okay."

Maybe things wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

---

**A/N:** Did anyone catch my plot hole sidestep? XD


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, not mine.

**Warning:** Don't like the idea of guys smutting other guys, then bugger off.

**A/N:** I seriously need my own computer for this stuff.

_This chapter has been rewritten. (4 of 6 done)_

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Four**

Draco led Harry down a hallway that was just as white and pristine as the room they had just left. Harry felt as if his feet were dragging a little and he remembered that it was the middle of the night. He should be asleep, for crying out loud!

Draco suddenly pulled Harry into an open door (was the whole house decorated the same way?) and went to a long bookshelf along the left wall. "Let's see if I can't find something in here for you," he muttered as he let go of his hand and started running his fingers over the bindings.

Harry crossed his arms and moved to lean against the end of the shelf. "I'm already guessing something of an elven nature."

Draco snorted and gave him a flat look, his eyes lingering over the tips of Harry's ears. "No shit, Sherlock."

Rolling his eyes, Harry moved to stand directly behind the blond, following him as he continued to move down the shelf. From over his shoulder - damn the other boy for being so tall! - Harry scanned the books as well. Then his hand shot forward of its own accord to point to a faded blue, leather-bound book, lightly brushing Draco's arm in its passing. He remained silent and was careful to keep his own surprise from his features.

Draco's veela senses suddenly trilled at the contact, hitting him full force now that there was no anger to mute it like before. He was suddenly possessed by a need to feel that pale skin under his fingers and, unable to stop it, he gently brushed the back of Harry's hand, his thumb caressing the skin there in a few soft circles before he reached forward to get the book the brunette had pointed out. A warm, tingling sensation filled him briefly at the touch and it was a feeling that he knew would become addicting if he didn't keep himself under control. Sighing, he handed the book to Harry and stepped away from him a little.

Harry watched Draco's behavior curiously before shaking his head and opening the book. Dust rose from the pages and he sneezed. Balancing the open book in one hand, he pushed his glasses up and rubbed the bridge of his nose with the other hand. Irritated at how long Harry was taking, Draco snatched the book from him and flipped to the index, sneezing as well when more dust rose. He casually noted the title of the book written down at the bottom of the page, quickly irritated when it wasn't in English. Thankfully, the rest of the book wasn't in the same language, whatever it was. After flipping through the book for a minute or so, Draco finally cleared his throat and started to read from the page.

"'In the realm of higher class elves (which is the term used to exclude the "lower class" like house elves), there are seven different kinds; light elves (also known as blood elves), dark elves (also known as night elves), wood elves, aquatic elves, fire elves, aerial elves, and elemental elves (also known as High elves).'" Draco sighed and placed his finger on the page to scan ahead. He frowned slightly. "Well that's odd. I thought the aerial would have wings." He scanned through more and suddenly scoffed. "'The rarest of all elves is the elemental elf, or the High elf, normally characterized by pale skin, dark hair, clear eyes, and wings. High elven blood can never be traced through heritage because of this rarity and is thought to be almost random. It is considered an honor in the wizarding world for there to be a High elf in the family because their blood is considered the purest. Because of this, more often than not, a High elf will be a veela's life mate.' Wonderful." He snapped the book shut.

Harry groaned and grabbed the book from him. "My sentiments exactly," he muttered, opening the book again. "I seem to be a magnet for the strange and abnormal, even in the wizarding world. What page number was that?"

"I'll second that opinion," Draco said dryly. "And it was page ninety-two."

There came a sound of a throat being cleared from the doorway and both boys jerked their head in that direction. Severus was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed and a tight frown on his lips. "'Life mate,' is it?"

Harry lifted the book slightly, showing him the correct page. "You heard him read it, so why ask? Besides, I'm pretty sure you have already guessed."

Severus raised an eyebrow and turned his attention to Draco. "I'm just confirming a suspicion, Potter. Well, Draco?"

Draco looked away stubbornly. "Not like I could pick," he mumbled.

Harry frowned. "You're wishing it were someone else."

Draco's eyes narrowed on Harry. "Of course. I've hated you for years, Potter. Don't tell me you expected that to change so quickly."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry scoffed, crossing his arm. "But tell me the truth. Would you rather it be Parkingson?" He tilted his head, his eyes suddenly flashing in amusement. "Or maybe Crabbe or Goyle? I'm sure they would be much more agreeable than me."

Draco had to pause for a moment after shooting Severus a dirty look for the soft snort he let slip. Soon after, a look of disgust flew onto his face. He could not and would not imagine those people as his mate. They were far too inferior and too much of followers for him to even consider thinking about them in that position. The thought made him shudder.

"Thank you, Potter, for that _lovely_ visual. Please, go on so I can get nauseated enough to actually throw up." Another shudder ran through him and he forced down a gag.

Harry snickered, now outwardly showing his amusement of the situation. His eyes darted after Severus, who seemed satisfied that they weren't going to kill each other, as he left the room and then returned to Draco. "I think I will, thank you." He tapped his cheek, feinting thought. "Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense that I am your mate. We're supposed to be opposites of each other." He paused and made a short gesture. "Of course, that could also mean Hermione or Ron. I'm not sure, but Neville might count too."

Draco made a face and rolled his eyes. "You think you're very funny, don't you Potter?"

Harry lifted his chin slightly, the corners of his lips pulling upward. "As a matter of fact, at this moment, I do."

Draco shifted forward slightly. "Don't make me wipe that smirk off your face."

"Oh, dear me. Whatever will I do? A better question - how do you propose to do that?"

A smirk similar to Harry's danced across Draco's lips. "Well, Potter," he started softly, stepping close to him, "as it were, I seem to have... a certain... power... over you."

Harry's expression faltered slightly but he kept a steady gaze. "Naturally. You're a veela."

"I'm glad you've accepted that. But, let's see then. Shall I find just how well I can make you react?"

Harry's voice and breath caught in his throat and all traces of humor slipped away. A small tremor ran through him and his eyelids threatened to flutter shut. There was that feeling of the allures again, soft and muted. "I don't see how I could stop you if you really wanted to," he finally whispered. "I... I can't seem to be able to move." His heart skipped a beat as Draco leaned forward.

The scathing remarks were gone from Draco's lips at this proximity to Harry. The possibility of the contact that his veela side was yearning for seemed to have drained the ability to talk from him. There was no way he could stop himself now. He wasn't used to such passion. Even though his mind was in jumbles, his actions were smooth as he removed Harry's glasses and softly, gently pressed his lips against Harry's.

The reaction from Harry was instantaneous; a quiet moan escaped his throat, one hand reached up behind his neck and pulled him closer, and the other hand gripped his shoulder. The increased intensity of what was supposed to be a simple kiss made Draco push Harry towards the bookcase and pin him there. The other boy didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, the way the smaller body was pressed against his own seemed to be begging for more. When Harry's lips parted slightly, what little control he still had over himself cracked and he pushed Harry harder against the shelf and threaded his fingers through Harry's dark hair. When his wrist brushed the tip of one ear, a shudder ran through the other boy and he moaned again. The half-forgotten glasses where hurriedly set on the shelf near Harry's head and then Draco slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth, drawing out another shudder.

When the need for proper breathing became too much, Draco reluctantly broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Harry's. Both were panting and had their eyes closed. Harry was far too dazed to care that the bookshelf behind him was biting into his wings.

"God, Potter!" Draco finally gasped out, opening his eyes. "What are you doing to me?"

"Shouldn't... I be... saying that... to you?" Harry retorted breathlessly. "I... I'm not... trying... to do... anything."

"Ridiculous. You're doing something and you're doing a damn good job at it."

Harry scowled. "Don't blame me. This is your fault for using so much allure."

Draco laughed weakly, lifted his head a little to kiss Harry's forehead. "I can't help it. The only thing I can seem to think about is you." He somehow couldn't fit the sound of annoyance in his voice.

"Should've expected that," Harry muttered. "I seem to have the same problem so far, now that I think about it."

Draco pulled Harry away from the bookshelf by his shoulders and touched their noses together. "That's a little comforting."

Their lips met again, this time in a slower, softer kiss that helped Draco gain his control back. He felt Harry relax in his arms. Though the kiss was much tamer, the intensity was no less. Each subtle movement and caress seemed to make Harry melt under him. The unwavering control he had felt before was slowly coming back to him. This thrilled him so much that the first time he heard a soft cough behind him, he ignored it. However, when a second, more insistent one sounded, he broke the kiss again and turned his head to glare at the source of the interruption.

"What do you want, you -" Surprise and horror filled Draco's expression and he pulled away from Harry quickly. "Father!"

Harry's head snapped in the direction Draco was looking and he paled slightly. 'Oh, shit.'

Lucious Malfoy stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and a completely plank expression that made Harry shiver. "Explain to me, Potter," he drawled slowly as he walked closer to them, "exactly what the hell do you think you are doing to my son."

Harry flinched at the cold tone but refused to look away a long as the man was looking at him. His wings shifted tightly against his back, reflecting his nervousness. He absolutely hated be caught off his guard.

Now that his head was slightly clearer, Draco silently cursed the wave of concern that he felt for Harry. This whole situation had to be even more awkward for him that it was for Draco. Sighing, he stepped forward and slightly in front of Harry. "Father, I can explain this. Potter didn't do anything." He stood confidentially as he faced his father, but his hands were fists at his sides and he felt tense.

Lucious reluctantly turned his attention to his son. "Oh? Really now, Draco? Go right ahead and explain then."

Draco held his father's gaze, knowing that if he broke it, his answer wouldn't be trusted. "Potter is my..." He paused, trying to fit his mouth around the words. "My mate."

Lucious suddenly sighed and Harry was shocked by the sudden amount of expression that flooded the man's face. "This could cause you a lot of problems, Draco," he said carefully. "It would be very bad if the Dark Lord found out."

Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach and reality crashed over his head. His was the life mate of the son of a Death Eater. And not just any Death Eater - Lucious Malfoy, the right hand man of Voldemort. 'Oh, fuck. If he says anything wrong, we'll both be killed.' Harry bit his lip and looked at Draco, worry written across his brow. "You wouldn't really..." He trailed off, unsure of the relationship between the two Malfoys.

Lucious frowned. "Of course not," he snapped. "What kind of father do you think I am? I would never take my son away from his mate, no matter who it was. However, if you abandon him, I will kill you."

Draco quickly stepped beside Harry and placed his arms around the shorter boy's shoulders, glaring over Harry's head at his father as if daring him to try and hurt his mate. The motion shocked everyone in the room, including Draco.

Lucious watched his son for a moment before turning around in the doorway. "I hope you gave those filthy muggle relatives of yours a proper goodbye, Potter. You're never going to see them again."

Draco's hold around Harry tightened, causing Harry to wince. "The fat muggle is mine," he hissed.

Lucious glanced over his shoulder. "You missed your chance to kill him when you retrieved your mate."

A soft growl escaped Draco's throat and he bodily spun Harry around. "Look at what he did to _my mate_. _I_ am going to be the one to kill that man."

Lucious's expression suddenly became unreadable. "If you insist then," he said darkly. "We'll hold on to him and then you and I will discuss what to do with him."

Draco nodded curtly and tucked Harry's head under his chin, holding him tightly. "Very well. Have a safe trip."

"Don't be late to the train. You two won't have to worry about anything from my master. I'll make sure of that."

Harry carefully avoided looking in Lucious's direction as the man left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it. Gah, how annoying. 

**Warning:** Said this before - this story includes guys who like guys. Don't like it? Go away!

**A/N:** Urg. Any grammatical or spelling mistakes later in the chapter are a result of lack of sleep and a sinus infection. 

_This chapter has been rewritten. (5 of 6 done)_

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Five**

Draco's hold around Harry relaxed once Lucious left the room, but only very slowly. Harry could only let him hold him and listen to his slow measured breaths while he waited. After a while, Draco released Harry and turned away from him quickly. Harry watched him wordlessly. The silence between them was long. 

Draco finally turned back towards Harry and crossed his arms, keeping a good two feet between them. 

Harry felt a faint, but painful, tug in his chest. So it was back to that again. Draco was being Draco Malfoy again. The one Harry didn't like. The one that would rather they both be dead instead of being together just because he was Harry-bloody-Potter. Harry sighed and looked down at the floor.

"What am I going to do with you, Potter?" Draco asked softly. Harry jerked his chin up, frowning. "Don't give me that look. We both know just how bad this situation is for the both of us. We're on opposing sides of this war. I could turn you in and you could easily reject me just to kill me. Knowing you, 'Perfect Potter', I'm sure we could somehow figure out a way to compromise. But even then we'll have problems. Our reputations will go down the drain. Also, do you realize that we will be stuck in school for part of mating season?"

Harry could tell from Draco's tone that the last part was a very bad thing. The name also gave Harry an idea of why it would be so bad. "Mating season? Veela really go through that? For how long?"

Draco suddenly laughed. "Nervous, Potter?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "No, I just want to know how long I'll have to put up with you lusting after me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's more than you're thinking Potter. A veela lusts for their mate at all times. Mating season just makes it harder to fight the urge."

"That's oh-so-comforting. Could you please just answer the question?"

Draco shifted and lifted his eyes to the ceiling as he thought. "My family has a history of starting in December and lasting into February."

Harry took a step back. "February! You're joking, right?"

Draco huffed and glared at the bookcase beside them. "I wish I was. Maybe we'll get lucky and I'll take after my grandfather. His mating season lasted only a month."

"You don't sound so hopeful," Harry said warily. 

Draco's gaze snapped back to him. "What do you expect? For me to be optimistic? You can try all you want, but from where I'm standing, I don't see a reason to be anything but pessimistic."

Harry returned the glare and stepped forward. His wings lifted off his back slightly, ruffling in his agitation. "Well, damn it, Draco! Give me more of a chance than that! Look me in the eyes and tell me that you truly believe with every part of you that I'm going reject you."

"Step away from me, Potter. Now."

Harry was taken aback by the tone in Draco's words and he stepped back like he was told. The blond was trembling and his fierce eyes shined with his internal conflict. "Draco, what-"

"It's your scent," Draco said, cutting Harry's question off. "It's stronger when you're upset or excited. I wanted to… I wanted…" He trailed off, eyes shifting to his hands. They were shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly. 

"Don't be," Draco snapped. "It's not like it's your fault. I'm just not used to how you smell yet. It'll be better with time."

With an awkward smile, Harry reached out and took Draco's hands in his own. "So you're willing to give me time?"

Draco looked up and then instantly away. "Don't sound so pathetically romantic, Harry. You're not a girl."

Harry laughed and he could have sworn he saw Draco smile briefly. "I'm glad you noticed."

The smirk that suddenly drew across Draco's lips alerted Harry to the fact that he might not like what was being said next. "You know, Harry, since your inheritance, you've gained certain female characteristics."

Harry gave Draco a flat stare. "Oh, very funny."

The smirk widened. "It's true." Draco lifted a hand to brush the side of Harry's face. "Your jaw line is smoother." The hand dropped to his shoulder. "Smaller shoulders." Then down to his hip. "And you have curves now." 

Harry hit his hand away. "Oh, bugger off, will you?" he grumbled. 

Draco chuckled. "You're not denying it."

"I know what I look like now, Draco. You don't need to point out the more girlish parts."

"Mmmm. Moody too."

"Shut up. It'll be bad enough that Dumbledore will want to make sure I use my condition to every advantage. I don't need you-"

Draco stopped Harry with a hand over his mouth. "Hang on a second. Harry Potter, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, is talking against him? Am I hearing things?"

Harry rolled his eyes and not-so-gently removed Draco's hand from his mouth. "No, you're not hearing things. I'm supposed to be the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'. Dumbledore wants to make sure I know what I'm doing and if my be an elf increases my chances of living through this, he'll make sure I know what I'm doing. If you ask me, which no one really is, it seems like he's trying to manipulate a tool to his uses and I don't really like that idea."

Draco shook his head. "Amazing. Does this mean I'll be able to woe you over to the dark side?"

"I think that's a conversation for another time," Harry said darkly. 

"Alright, alright. No need to be testy." Draco sighed and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We need to go get our school things."

Harry groaned and shook his head. "Tomorrow."

Draco reached out and gently grasped Harry's shoulders, pulling him against his chest. "You must be tired. Come with me."

Harry wasn't really given a choice in the matter as Draco started pulling him out of the room and down the hallway. Only light protests escaped him as his tiredness caught up with him again. "Where the bloody hell are you taking me?"

"Language, Potter."

"Don't 'language' me, Malfoy. Tell me where we're going."

Then Draco pulled Harry to a stop with him. "Here." He opened the door they had stopped at and gestured for Harry to go in first. "After you."

Frowning, Harry stepped into the room. A few steps in and the lights turned on. Harry spun to see Draco's hand falling away from a switch on the wall. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Electricity?" 

Draco shrugged. "Father says it's the only thing the muggles have right."

Harry snorted and looked around the room.

The fact that the room wasn't white like the rest of the house made Harry happy. The walls were a light beige color with a dark orange accent along the floor board. The furniture – a bed, a dresser, two bedside tables, a desk, and a full-length mirror – were all made from dark-stained ash wood. The large bed was covered in the same dark orange and light beige. It made Harry want to curl up under the covers and fall asleep. It practically called to him. 

Draco's arm slipped around his shoulders and he led Harry over to the bed. "You should rest. I have something to take care of, but I will be back soon enough." 

Harry allowed himself to be forced to sit on the bed. "Where are you going?" For some reason, Harry didn't like the idea of Draco leaving. 

"I already told you, I have something that needs to be taken care of."

"In the middle of the night?"

Draco sighed. "Just get some sleep, Harry. You look dead on your feet."

Harry echoed the sigh and turned to lie down. "Alright. Go then."

Draco's hand ghosted over Harry's wings and he reveled briefly in the small shiver that resulted. Ah, what a simple touch could do. "I will be back soon. Don't wonder off." 

Harry ignored him. It was childish, but all that he really wanted at that moment was to fall asleep. At the sound of the door closing, Harry rolled onto his stomach, head turned sideways. He found himself already drifting away as he listened to the sound of footsteps leading away. 

**---**

Severus had always felt at home beside a bubbling cauldron and a tray of neatly organized ingredients. To say that the process of making a potion was a comfort to him would be very close to the truth. How any of his students ever came to hate potions had to be because of lack of appreciation and hatred towards him as a person. He knew his personality was grating for some people, but he didn't believe that should be a factor when considering a like or dislike for the art of potion making. 

A soft tap drew him out of his idle musings and he dropped one last ingredient into the cauldron before turning to give most of his attention to his visitor. "Is he asleep?"

Draco stood leaning against the doorframe. Nothing in the guest room could be seen beyond the small light of the fire under the cauldron except the dark shadows of what was probably a bed and other furniture. Draco didn't bother to reach for the light switch. If the potion that Severus was working on required limited light exposure, he wanted to avoid getting yelled at by the man. 

Quickly, Draco mulled over Severus's question. "If he weren't so stubborn, he might have passed out sooner."

Severus nodded shortly and glanced back at the potion as it let out a hissing sound and suddenly turned a murky blue color in the darkness. "Turn on the lights." 

Draco did as he was told without question and watched as the potions master started stirring until the blue turned into clear lavender. When the potion was placed into several vials, Draco spoke again. "Father spoke with you before he left?"

A stopper was placed in the last vial and then the glass bottles were lined up on the table beside the tray. "He did."

Draco shifted slightly and Severus could tell he was far from satisfied with that answer. "Well?"

Sighing, Severus turned completely towards Draco and leaned back in his chair. "He will be holding Vernon Dursely in captivity until you've had time to clear your head a little and when you can bear to be away from your mate longer than thirty minutes."

Draco's posture quickly changed to that of irritation and a light flush briefly touched his cheeks. "I can control myself," he said stiffly. 

"It's a precaution, Draco. He just wants you to be careful."

"I know that!" Draco snapped. A moment passed where they just stared at each other, measuring the situation for what it was. "I can't help my feeling about this. You know what that man did to him. It makes my blood boil just thinking about it. I can't let what he did go unpunished."

Severus stood up and placed hand on the other's shoulder. "You need to allow yourself some time to connect with your mate, Draco. You can't right every wrong that has been done to him. The only thing you should worry about for the next few days is bonding with him and taking care of him."

"Don't get all sappy on me, Sev," Draco said quickly, even though he understood perfectly what Severus was saying. 

Snorting, Severus turned his back to his godson. "No, I think I'll leave the sentimental nothings to you when you're actually in love with the boy."

Draco grumbled under his breath something about Malfoys never being sentimental and crossed his arms. 

Once again, Severus turned back to Draco, this time with a vial of the lavender potion in hand. "Give this to Potter when he wakes up and tell him to take two drops twice a day."

Draco took the bottle with a curious expression that quickly turned to disappointment when he realized exactly what he was holding. "An anti veela-charm potion? That's not fair, Sev."

"It's completely fair. He won't ever get a coherent thought out if the two of you are snogging all the time because you haven't mastered absolute control over you're allure yet." He started gathering up the rest of the vials. "Now off to bed with you. If you're not the least bit tired, then you at least need to be in the same room as your mate soon."

**---**

Draco very nearly sprinted the last few meters to his room, suddenly restless from being away from Harry for so long. He mentally berated himself for feeling such after only twenty minutes. He refused to be needy. That wasn't like him at all. 

He opened the door slowly and peeked in. The light was still on like he had left it, so he could easily see that Harry was fast asleep. As he quietly approached the bed, he couldn't help but stare. Harry was sprawled out on his stomach with both arms curled under the pillow and his wings were folded against his back. Shaking his head, Draco walked over to the bed and tried to move the sheets from under the unconscious boy without disturbing him. Harry groaned and sat up quickly. 

"Wha - what's going on?" 

Draco quickly found Harry's wand pointed at his throat. "Hey, hey. Chill, it's me. I was just trying to cover you up."

Harry stared at him blankly for a minute before looking at his wand. "Oh. Sorry."

"Just get under the covers, you prat," Draco ordered, gently pushing Harry off of the sheets. "That's right. Lay back down and go to sleep."

The wand that had been so steady in Harry's hand seconds ago suddenly slipped from his fingers as the boy's eyes started to droop. Draco snatched up the wand and set it on the bedside table before nudging Harry back into the position he had been sleeping in minutes before. The elf seemed to fall back asleep just as soon as his head hit the pillow and the covers were pulled up to his shoulders. 

Sighing, Draco set about getting ready for bed himself. As his slipped into his bed clothes, he realized that Harry would probably need a whole new wardrobe. No, he would definitely need a new one. He wasn't about to let his mate continue to wear the pathetic clothes his relatives had supplied him with. He would also have to figure out what to do with those glasses - he quickly darted back to the bed to remove Harry's glasses as he thought this. One thing was for sure - Draco Malfoy was going to take much better care of Harry Potter than whatever care those horrible muggles thought they had provided him. 

When finally the lights were turned off and he was also under the covers, Draco gave into his desire to be skin-to-skin with his mate. Just before laying his head down to sleep, Draco lifted a hand to caress Harry's cheek. Then he sighed and rolled over so his back was facing Harry, trying to will his body to forget how addicting it was to touch the other boy's skin. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Pfft.

**Warning:** If you haven't noticed, the summary says **slash**. Which means guys who love guys. If you don't like that kind of stuff, then what the hell are you doing here?

**A/N:** Yay! This is the last chapter that needs to be rewritten! It's such a drastic change from the original! 

_This chapter has been rewritten. (6 of 6 done)_

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Six**

If it weren't for the light trying to steal its way through his eyelids, Harry would have gladly continued sleeping through the rest of the day. Merlin knew that he needed the rest. He had had strangest dream though. He could have sworn that everything was real. But Draco Malfoy being a veela with Harry Potter as his life mate seemed a little farfetched to him. Now the wings part wasn't as farfetched. Even in the wizarding world, abnormal things seemed to be draw to him. He was almost afraid of opening his eyes. Would he wake up in the small Dursley bedroom on the lumpy mattress or in Draco Malfoy's summer house on a silk covered bed. 

Damn. This bed was far too comfortable to be the former. 

Even though he was sure of where he was and that he was relatively safe, Harry listened hard to signs of life around him. He was laying on his stomach again, which wasn't really that unusual, but that meant that the wings were more likely. A strange weight lay across his back and on his back he felt something that was like feathers. The wings were definitely real now. What else was there? The sound of soft breathing reached his ears and a faint touch of that breath brushed his face. 

Harry finally opened his eyes, though he did so slowly. Draco lay across from him on his side, his right arm tucked under his pillow and his left hand barely touching Harry's arm. Surprised at their closeness, Harry sat up quickly. Draco's hand fell from his arm to rest on his hand instead. Sighing, Harry rubbed the back of his neck as he looked over his sleeping companion. His orange draped side rose and fell slowly with his breathing and the blond hair scattered across his forehead almost glowed in the morning sunlight. The annoying, snobbish Draco seemed to have disappeared, replaced by this angelic figure laying beside him. He just looked so beautifully peaceful. 

"So it wasn't a dream," Harry muttered as he looked towards the window. "Bloody veela."

Suddenly, the bed shifted beside him and warm air breezed over the bare skin on his right shoulder. "Do you often dream of us kissing, Potter?"

His heart leaping in his throat, Harry spun around after snatching up his wand from the bedside table. 

Draco shifted back a little once the wand was pointed at his face, but he still kept a distance of two feet between them. His eyes were half-lidded but the smirk on his lips told Harry he was awake enough to be sarcastic. "I thought it was you that established that I can't hurt you. Put the wand away."

Harry placed his wand back on the night stand, willing his breathing and heart rate to slow down. "You startled me. I thought you were sleeping." He shifted back a little only to have Draco lean forward to maintain the space between them. 

"I was until you started moving around. You stirred your scent up." Gray eyes were fixed intently on Harry and he leaned forward again, closing the distance to one foot. "It would be wise of you to get as far away from me as you can right now."

Nervously, Harry scooted back until he suddenly fell off the bed, dragging the sheets down with him. There was a predatory look in Draco's eyes as he looked down at him from the edge of the bed. Harry stared back up at him with wide eyes, wondering what the hell was going on. 

Draco tilted his head slightly, his hair falling in his eyes. Harry took back his thoughts from a few minutes ago. Draco wasn't an angel - he was a demon! "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Harry muttered as he quickly tried to think of a way to keep the veela away from him. No one had ever looked at him the way Draco was and he wasn't sure he would like whatever it was that the blond was planning. In a slight panic, Harry hurried to his feet and turned to bolt for the nearest door. Why hadn't he noticed that there were two others last night?

He was spun around and slammed into the wall before he could even touch the handle. Draco, still half asleep, was leaning heavily against him with both forearms on the wall on either side of his head. "Not fast enough," he purred before quickly capturing Harry's lips in a quick kiss. Then his lips moved over to his cheek and down his jaw to his neck. When Draco suddenly started biting the skin below his ear, panic finally set in and Harry raised his fist, sending Draco backwards.

A shocked silence fell over the two as they stared at each other. Then Draco slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his jaw. "Er, was I…" He trailed off with a wince.

"Molesting me?" Harry finished. "Yes, you were." He touched a hand to his neck where small red spots were slowly fading. 

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Next time, wake me up sooner."

Harry frowned. "You expect this to happen again?"

Draco made a wide gesture with one hand and then put it to his forehead. "It's a Freudian slip of sorts. One part of me wants to ravish you right here, right now, while the other part of me wants nothing to do with you." He crossed his arms. "And I guess I must have a hard time controlling my veela side whenever I'm tired."

Harry suddenly laughed. "You know muggle psychology?" 

Draco frowned, though his body relaxed a little. "You do?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "There you go again, thinking I'm a complete airhead. As a matter of fact, I do know about Freud. The id, the ego, and the superego. I'm sure that's what you're referring to."

"You haven't had the time to go to a muggle school. How do you know about that?"

Harry sighed. "Of course I don't have time. But Dudley does."

"And how is this Dudley person a part of this conversation?"

"He's my cousin."

"And he takes psychology?"

Harry laughed again. "He'd fail if he did!"

Draco gave an aggravated sigh. "Then how is this applicable?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair and Draco watched intently. Black hair had always seemed so coarse to him before, but for some reason, Harry's hair looked very soft. He wanted to touch it. So he unconsciously stepped forward.

"How should I say this?"

Draco broke from his thoughts. Oh, right. They had been talking about his stupid cousin.

"Seeing as my cousin hardily has anything in that thick skull of his, he uses his muscle more often."

Draco held back a snort. "How typical."

Harry smiled lightly. "Agreed. He's a typical bully. Which was basically how a psychology book ended up in my room."

"Go on."

"He picks on people who are obviously weaker than himself and just terrorizes them. He took the book from another kid and threatened to beat him to a pulp if he told anyone. I think Dudley honestly wanted to read it for a while, but when he couldn't understand any of it, the book ended up in my room."

"And you read it."

"Of course. Do I need to punch you again?"

Draco frowned. "Why would you need to do that?"

"You're getting rather close to me again."

"I realize that," he said with a smirk as he stepped forward again. 

"Then what are you doing?" Harry glanced quickly to either side. With his back against the wall, he felt very vulnerable. 

"Don't be afraid," Draco said softly as he took another step forward and lifted his hand level with Harry's cheek. "It seems both parts of me are curious to know what your hair feels like." His hand hovered inches away. "You don't mind do you?"

Harry hesitated, frowning as he considered the situation before him. "I don't. Just mind the ears."

Draco chuckled and took a strand of dark hair between his fingers. Ah, it was even softer than it looked. "Are you going to tell me why you don't want me touching your ears? They too have been begging for my attention."

Harry quickly smacked Draco's hand away when it started to stray from the strand of hair in favor of a pointed ear. "I can tell by your smirk that you remember why, Malfoy. You can't fool me."

Draco's smirk increased and he stepped back. Indeed, he could remember clearly how Harry had reacted when he had brushed his ear. The thing was, he wanted to see that reaction again, and maybe he could touch it with something besides his fingers. Like his mouth…

Okay, very bad train of thoughts. Damn his veela side. 

Draco spun on his heels towards the other door in the room. "I'm going to take shower. You should rest up a little more. Just don't wander too far off. Severus isn't a very nice person in the morning."

Harry laughed and the sound made Draco smile a little. "I really didn't think so."

---

Thirty minutes later, Draco came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair dripping. Harry had shed his torn shirt and was poking at it with his wand idly. It couldn't really be called a shirt now, seeing as it was currently half orange, half green, and was morphed into an odd-shaped blob. 

"What on earth are you doing?"

Harry didn't even look up. "Making it unrecognizable. Because I'm bored. For a guy, you take awfully long showers."

Draco flushed lightly and crossed his arms. "I was killing time. It's not like I have anywhere to go today."

Harry shrugged and poked at the shirt a few more times before setting it on fire. Draco was about to cry out in alarm when Harry gathered the flame into his hand and made a fist. The small blue flame disappeared. Draco frowned at him and Harry grinned. 

"Don't tell me you don't know that one."

Draco rolled his eyes and moved towards the third door. "Take a shower, Potter."

When Draco came back out of the closet dressed in dark slacks and a white silk shirt, muffled cursing was coming from the bathroom. Confused, he slowly cracked the door open just enough to carry his voice over the running water. 

"Potter?"

There was shuffling and more muffled cursing. "What do you need, Malfoy?"

"I wanted to find out what you were cursing at."

"My wings are being a bloody pain in the arse."

Draco stopped to try and picture the situation that Harry was in. He guessed that having wings might cause problems. "Do you want help?"

There was silence on Harry's part for a few seconds before he sighed. "Alright. Just keep your veela side in check, will you?"

Oh boy.

Draco paused before opening the door to flush out all the thoughts in his head. Clear head, clear mind, no need to pounce on his mate on site. When he opened the door, he directed his gaze to the ground, eyes glancing over old, faded blue jeans before lifting to the shower. The large, smoky glass doors to the shower hid everything but the faint outline of Harry's form which wouldn't have mattered anyway because his wings were positioned to hide his hips [and the general area from view. When Draco lifted a hand to open one of the doors, Harry quickly turned his back to him.

"I just need help with my back. The wings are getting in the way." Harry held out a washcloth as he said this. 

"Alright." Snatching the soapy washcloth from Harry's hand, Draco carefully started scrubbing the juncture where the black wings merged with the other boy's back. Blood that hadn't been washed away with the water was rubbed out, revealing raw skin. Of course. The wings had to come from somewhere. At least it was healing quickly. "You've still got some blood back here from your inheritance," he said softly. 

Harry sighed. "I figured as much. Get out as much as you can." 

As Draco continued, he noticed that despite the dampness of the elf's skin, his wings were dry. Completely dry. "Your wings aren't wet."

"I noticed that too. I guess they repel water. I'll have to find that book again and see if there's anything useful in it."

Draco nodded, his eyes trailing to the scars on Harry's back. Without saying a word, Draco pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed at those filthy reminders of the man he wanted to kill so much. With a small flick of the end, a blue light shot from his wand and spread over Harry's skin, dissolving away the scars in its passing. 

Harry tensed. "What the - ah." He fell silent as he watched the blue light travel down his arms. The spell enveloped him fully, then faded slowly. Harry lifted an arm to stare at it. "I…." He trailed off, frozen for a moment. "Thank you," he whispered. 

At the quiet relief in Harry's tone, Draco suddenly felt the need to be out of his presence. If gratitude made him do anything stupid, not that he believed it would, he would be in danger of losing control. So, he placed the washcloth back in Harry's hand and walked out of the shower, closing the door behind him. "Finish rinsing off. I'll help you find something to fit you when you get out." 

He was out the bathroom door before Harry could say anything. Draco didn't want to hear what he had to say anyway. 

---

Harry spent most of the day without a shirt on until he found a way to make his wings disappear at will - something he refused to tell Draco, not that he cared. It turned out that the elf's wings were meant more for protection than flying. The two of them stayed apart for the rest of the day after Harry informed Draco of that. The next day, like Draco promised himself, they went shopping for a whole new wardrobe for Harry with Harry reluctantly in tow. 

In the days that followed, the boys gradually started spending more time together, Draco at Severus's prompting whenever he became stubborn. They studied and discovered more things about Harry's heritage and Harry learned about veela customs. Sometimes they fought with each other, but most of the time it only involved yelling. After a week, Harry discovered on accident that he could cast wandless magic more consciously than he had before, though it still revolved around strong emotions for the most part. Draco disappeared for one day after a particularly nasty spat between the two and Harry stayed and watched Severus make potions as he waited. This was when he found out about the potion he was supposed to be taking. When Draco got home - he had gone to get their school books - Harry immediately started yelling at him. It was something along the lines of how fucking dare he before Draco dragged him from the room. The fight continued on for two days until they both calmed down. From that point on, though, Harry almost religiously took the potion every day. 

Draco was finding it harder and harder to keep from touching Harry, seeing as the other boy no longer felt the need to keep away from him because of his allure. This was going to be a long year. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to Rowling, not me. Damn. 

**Warning:** Slash, shounen-ai, boilurv, guyxguy - whatever you want to call it. 

**A/N:** Finally, a new chapter! Okay, for those who haven't already checked back, you really need to. I mean it. **The first six chapters have been rewritten. If you don't go back and read, you'll be confused. Now go!**

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Seven**

There are several things that Draco Malfoy hates. Harry Potter used to sit nice and cozy at the top of that list with no chance of falling from it. It was a nice regularity that he could rely on staying the way it was. At least until the day that he found out that Harry Potter was his mate. 

Now Harry could never reach the top of that list. He might get close during their fights, but because of his veela blood, Draco could never truly hate his mate. Not that he loved him either. That was supposed to be an eventual result. One that he wasn't going to let happen any time soon. Severus and his father had told him that fighting himself would only make it worse, but he planned on staying in denial as long as possible. 

No, Harry Potter was no longer at the top of his hate list. Actually, right now, sunlight was hitting it pretty high. 

"Draco, did you plan on getting up anytime soon?"

Draco groaned at the sound of Harry's voice. That was another one of his hates this morning. Actually, every morning. Especially when he hadn't fully woken up and his veela blood would start singing because of it. 

"You know better than to wake me up in the morning," he grumbled into the pillow. "You better have a good reason."

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and the bed sank beside him. The smell of vanilla shampoo mixed with Harry's natural scent filled Draco's head for a moment, completely stopping his thought process before Harry spoke again. "Get up now. We have two hours before we need to be at the train station." 

Draco shot up. "What? Why didn't you get me up earlier?" He glared at Harry. 

Harry leaned forward slightly and tilted his head to the side to move the hair out of his eyes. "There's enough time for you get ready and for us to floo to London." 

"But the trunks aren't-"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Clearly you aren't awake enough. I finished packing last night while you were yelling at Severus for giving me a new vial. There should be enough time for you to double check to be sure you have everything. Otherwise you can always send a letter home to-"

Draco shoved Harry back onto the bed. He would have followed after but urgency called for otherwise. "Fine, fine. I get it. Has Severus left already?"

"He left about two hours ago. He suggested that we arrive separately."

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Of course."

Harry crossed his arms and swung his legs up on the bed. "Go take a shower. I'll ask one of the elves to make breakfast so it's ready when you get out."

Draco suddenly smirked and he leaned down to kiss Harry on the cheek. "You'll make a good wife, Harry-dear."

Harry jerked away and glared up at him. "Draco Malfoy, in no way was that funny."

Draco laughed and shifted so he was straddling the elf's waist. "Did you take your potion yet?" 

"Get off of me and wake up before I have to put you in the shower myself. And don't think I won't do it."

Draco started running his fingers though Harry's hair. He couldn't help it. His hair was so soft; his hands were drawn to it. "And who said that would be a bad thing."

"With freezing cold water."

"I'm sure we could heat things up rather quickly," Draco purred, causing Harry's face to darken. "You look so cute when you blush."

"I'm not cute," Harry growled, shoving Draco off onto the floor. Before Draco could stop his laughter to even think about sitting up, Harry picked him up from the ground and started carrying him towards the bathroom. 

"I can walk, you know." Draco lifted his arms to wrap them around Harry's neck. "But since it's you, I'm willing to let that pass."

Harry kicked the bathroom door open and then promptly dropped Draco on the floor. "I'm not amused, Malfoy. Shower. Now." 

Draco crossed his arms and glared up at Harry. "You always pick the rudest ways to wake me up. You could try something else."

Harry snorted. "I have. Being 'rude' is the only way that seems to work. Now please stop wasting time. You don't have two hours anymore."

Draco sighed as he picked himself up off the ground, trying to ignore fading whisper in the back of his head that said he would like to hear that 'please' in a different tone and situation. Disregarding or, more likely, in spite of Harry still being in the room, Draco started ridding himself of his clothes. 

"You don't have any values, do you?" 

Without even looking at him, Draco could tell that Harry had his back to him. He smirked and turned to drape his arms around Harry's shoulders. "We've talked about this before," he murmured, bringing his mouth as close to the other's ear as he could get without getting hit. "When it comes to you, very few."

Harry quickly shrugged the veela off and hurried out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. He hated when Draco got like that and how easily embarrassed he would get. When Draco called after him, he stubbornly ignored him and went to go double check his trunk. 

When he opened the battered trunk – the elder Malfoy had retrieved it from his former home before he burned it to the ground – Harry couldn't help but sigh like he always did. His few measly belongings, including his broom and old sneek-o-scope, had multiplied since his arrival at the Malfoy summer house. Aside from the whole new wardrobe, which Harry was grateful for no matter how much he complained, Draco had brought home new things for him almost every time he left the house. His old cauldron had been replaced, along with his broom-cleaning kit. Books on elves and veela were stacked in one corner next to his school books. A small bag of trinkets lay on the other side of the trunk under a protection charm and Harry didn't want to think about how much those had cost. Every time Draco would give him something, they both would get awkward and shift around until one of them just left the room. Harry was sure Draco was still getting used to thinking about him all the time when they were apart. 

Even Lucius had given him things, though he wasn't sure if they had been bought. It was more likely that they were family heirlooms. It was uncomfortable to be around Lucius, who visited frequently to check up on them, because of the attitude that he had adopted towards Harry. It was like he was his second son. He wasn't sure if he should be comforted by that or not. Either way, it would take a while for him to get used to 'being a part of the family'. 

Reaching into the trunk, Harry fished out a bottle of the potion Severus had given him and carefully pulled out the rubber stopper. The stuff smelled good and the taste wasn't as horrible as Harry would have thought, but get it on anything but living flesh and it stains the object a light purple forever. Harry was tempted to douse Draco's Slytherin ties in it, but decided that he didn't want an enraged veela after him even if he couldn't harm him. Raising the vial carefully to his lips, Harry swallowed a little and then quickly replaced the stopper. 

The sound of the door opening nearly caused Harry to drop the vial. Spinning around, he glared at Draco as he started toweling his hair dry with a smaller towel than the one around his waist. Water dripped onto the floor from his arms and legs and down his chest. 

"So you hadn't taken it yet," Draco said, sounding disappointed. "I should have pressed harder."

Harry replaced the bottle in the trunk and then slammed the lid down. "One day you want nothing to do with me and the next you're all over me," he growled. "Make up your mind, will you?"

Draco rolled his eyes and said nothing as he disappeared into the closet. Harry frowned after him before turning back to his trunk and running his fingers across the Hogwarts emblem. "I wonder what would happen if I took more then the recommended does," he mused aloud. "I'll have to ask Severus."

With a loud pop, a house elf appeared beside Harry and quickly bowed. "Daisy heard that-"

"I've told you that you don't have to bow every time, Daisy," Harry scolded softly. "But, yes, breakfast would be nice." 

The elf stared up at him with wide eyes and the fabric of her pillowcase-outfit shifting a little as she half-bowed anyway. "Did you wants something special, Master Potter?"

Harry sighed, knowing that no matter how hard he tried, the house elf would never be able to _not_ bow to him. It just wasn't in her nature to do so and telling her not to probably confused her immensely. "No, Daisy. The usual will be fine."

Daisy bowed again and disappeared with a pop. Harry shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets as he fell down onto the bed. House elves and their servitude. Wouldn't give it up for the world. Unless, of course, their owners were treating them like trash…

Harry allowed his mind to carry him off to wherever it felt like going and closed his eyes. Despite his wakefulness, he was tired. The night before, the thought suddenly occurred - how the hell was he going to face the school like this? He and Draco were complete opposites and not in a million years would anyone thing of them as 'together'. This was going to be a rather difficult situation, he mused darkly. That thought had kept him up and restless most of the night. 

Even through his drowsy daze of deep thoughts, Harry faintly heard the door to the closet opening. The bed dipped down beside him and he opened one eye to look over at Draco. "It's not polite to stare."

Draco rolled his eyes and poked Harry roughly in the side. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

Harry lay back with a sigh. "Take a guess. I'm sure I woke you a few times. I'm not exactly a quiet sleeper when I'm restless."

"You don't have to get offended. I'm concerned."

"I'm fine," Harry said flatly. "Daisy brought breakfast."

"I could smell it while I was changing." 

Silence laid heavily over them and Harry was aware of Draco's sweeping his form. Instead of repeating his words about staring, Harry sat up and turned to stare right back at Draco. Snorting, Draco casually reached forward and brushed a rouge piece of hair out of his eyes. 

"You look too good in those pants," Draco murmured, his eyes flashing over Harry's body again. "You should change."

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "I don't see a reason why I should. Besides that, they're comfortable."

"You're not even going to consider my feelings in this are you?"

Harry's eyes flashed and he looked away. "You mean the feeling that you can't keep stable for more than a few minutes."

Draco looked away as well, ignoring how the words had actually hurt him. "Don't be a prat, Harry."

"I'm not changing."

"Fine."

After another long silence, Harry checked his watch and motioned towards the small table that Daisy had set up for them. School called and they couldn't approach the awaiting problem on an empty stomach. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Um, seriously, what part of "Do not own" don't you get?

**Warning:** Boys that love each other or the possibility those boys could love each other. If you don't like that kind of stuff, just go away.

**A/N:** Amazing, another chapter. I feel like I'm pulling these out of air sometimes. Just not as fast as I'd like to.

Anyway, I'm saying this again: for those who haven't already checked back, you really need to. I mean it. **The first six chapters have been rewritten. If you don't go back and read, you'll be confused. Now go! I will not be answering questions like "wtf happened to this or that?" so you better pay attention. That is why this is bolded.**Also, I'd love some feedback on the rewritten chapters; are they better or worse – that sort of thing.

**--**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Eight**

It was raining. Draco hated the rain. It mussed up his hair no matter what he did in preparation for it, which was something he couldn't understand. He was a wizard, for Merlin's sake! There had to be some sort of product to keep his hair from frizzing like it did. Harry had scolded him for cursing the rain. Of course Harry, the wonder boy, didn't worry about the rain ruining his hair. He didn't even bother to style it. The biggest thing that irked Draco about Harry's hair was the fact that even though it was such a mess all the time, Harry pulled it off without even thinking about it. It just wasn't fair. Why did the stupid prick have it so easy?

"Harry!"

Speaking of a certain prick…

Draco subtly glanced out of the corner of his eye when he heard the shout, not realizing that he was gritting his teeth. So the Golden Trio was together again. Somehow they looked odd. Maybe it was because of Harry's slight difference in appearance. Or maybe it was the fact that the sight of the redhead holding Harry in a bear hug angered him.

"Ron, you're choking him," Hermione said softly, barely loud enough for Draco to hear, as she gently pried Ron off of Harry so he could breath. Harry wheezed his thanks to her and attempted to pull his clothes back in order with a little success. The thought that Harry really should not have worn those pants struck Draco once more.

"We missed you, Harry!" Ron chimed.

Why did Harry's warm smile in response make his heart go cold?

"You were supposed to come to visit, but Dumbledore said something came up and that it wouldn't be possible," Hermione said, shifting slightly on her feet.

"Ah," Harry murmured, the smile vanishing. "I knew that he wouldn't tell you why, but I still hoped that he would. It doesn't matter. He'll probably tell the whole school during the feast. For their protection." Draco could feel the same bitterness that was in Harry's voice.

Hermione's expression grew confused, but before she could voice one of the questions running though her head, Ron interrupted her.

"Hey, you look different, Harry."

Hermione threw him a disgusted look. "Of course he looks different, Ron. We haven't seen him since-"

Harry gave a light chuckle and held up a hand to stop her rant. "That may be true, Hermione, but I think he's referring to this." In a swift motion, Harry tucked his hair behind his ear and Draco marveled at how revealing those delicate ears suddenly gave Harry and air of elegance.

"Bloody hell, mate!"

"Was it part of your inheritance?"

"What side of your family is elven?"

Harry suddenly turned away from the two, his fingers pushing up his glasses so he could rub the bridge of his nose. "We can talk about it later. Don't you two have prefect duties?"

Hermione's eyes flashed over to Ron and then back to Harry. "Of course we do! We can still walk you to the compartment."

Harry shook his head quickly. "That's not necessary. I can find it myself. The two of you should go." Suddenly, as if to drive his point home, the first whistle blew, telling the students that it would be a good idea to start getting on the train really soon. He looked over his shoulder at them and smiled. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Even as he was walking away, Draco was sure that Harry could hear the concerned whispered passing between his friends with that enhanced hearing of his. Draco certainly couldn't hear it, but he wasn't blind to the worried faces that leaned closer to each other once he was out of normal hearing range.

"There you are, Draco."

He winced and turned around quickly to stop the arms from wrapping around him. "Pansy," he said flatly.

Pansy scrunched up her nose and brushed her dark hair out of her face irritably. "Well that's not a very nice greeting." She grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the train. "Come on. Let's go find a compartment together."

Draco rolled his eyes. "As if you'd give me a choice to sit in a different compartment."

Pansy grinned impishly. "Of course no – ouch! Hey!"

The collision jarred Draco and he whirled to scowl. "What the hell?" he hissed.

"Sod off, Malfoy."

Oh.

Draco's heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Harry's angry gaze directed at him, his mouth in a thin line. Where had this come from? Was Harry still upset with him from this morning or was he just suddenly in a bad mood? Draco shoved his concerns away, narrowing his eyes again. "Watch it, Potter," he snapped.

Harry's eyes flashed and he spun on his heels towards the back of the train. "Why don't you?" Draco watched him leave, his brief anger seeping out of him.

Pansy tugged on his arm. "Come on, Draco. Forget about him. I want you to buy me a Cauldron Cake."

--

Midday had crawled its way by and Draco was fed up with his follow Slytherins and their crude jokes. He didn't know why they though he would laugh at them. He never did. There were even some subtle insults thrown at him. Oh, ha ha. Yeah, Pansy would make a lovely bride, but she certainly wasn't going to be his. No way. Never. He wanted to yell at them, tell them to shut up, grow up, and whatever else came to his tongue once he started ranting. Instead, he kept control, quietly observing the others as he bit his tongue for silence. Despite the crowded compartment, he felt alone. Even the presences of Pansy and Blaise didn't lessen it like they usually did. He belonged somewhere else right now and he needed to leave.

As if prompted by his thoughts, he found himself on his feet quiet unintentionally. A boy, who's name he couldn't bring himself to remember, stopped in his vivid description of his victory over a Gryffindor to blink at him and his enthralled audience turned to do the same.

"Draco?" Pansy placed a hand on his arm and he glanced down at her.

Draco frowned at the concern in her voice and turned away. "Excuse me," he said gruffly as he slid the door open. He let it slam shut behind him.

In a half dream-like state, Draco walked towards the back compartments of the train, not sure why but not caring either. He just wanted to get away from those idiots and go to…

… what? Go to what?

His hand fell upon the door to the last compartment and he put on his best sneer, expecting to have to chase out a few first years. His answer to why he wanted so badly to be inside this particular compartment came to him when he opened the door.

Inside the compartment, Harry lay sprawled on the floor, a book open beside him and his wand pointed at Draco's chest. His surprised expression mirrored Draco's and they both stared at each other in silence.

Draco cleared his throat. "May I?"

"Of course." Harry nodded to the bench opposite him. "Why did you come find me?"

Draco let out a heavy sigh as he fell onto the velvet-covered seat. "My guess is that my veela side didn't like how long we were apart from each other."

Harry grunted softly in answer and reached for his book.

Silence hung over then, one that Draco found uncomfortable enough to be searching for something to talk about. His eyes glanced quickly around the compartment. "How did you get a compartment all to yourself?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Concealment charm," Harry replied matter-of-factly. His eyes never moved from the pages of his book, irritating Draco enough to snatch it from his hands. "Hey, I was reading that."

"I'm sorry," Draco drawled as he glanced over the page. "What is so fascinating about this book to have most of your attention?"

"It's about elves," Harry snapped, crossing his arms. "Let's me know what powers I have and their relations with other creatures. Like when we complete the bond, my wing will be able to repel even the Unforgivables. Now why the hell would you be jealous of a book?"

Ignoring the last remark, Draco suddenly frowned and closed the book with a dull thud. "Don't expect it so easy."

"If you're referring to the lunatic that's after me, of course I don't expect it so easy. I just thought it would be nice to have the added protection."

The book fell heavily on the seat beside Draco as he leaned over Harry. "I hope you haven't forgotten, but I do work for that lunatic."

Harry suddenly picked up his nonchalant expression again and shrugged his indifference. "You haven't done anything to harmful to me yet. Besides, it's not like we fully trust each other. If Dumbledore would just let me ignore the prophecy, which I'm sure I could, I'd be fine. But Voldemort doesn't know and Dumbledore wants me to train in preparation, so the only thing I can do is try to survive."

Draco felt at stirring in his chest as his two sides started warring with each other. Harry was his mate, but at the same time he was the enemy. Without his consent, words slipped from his lips. "What is the prophecy?"

Harry glanced sidelong at Draco before reciting in a whisper. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

Draco's mind stumbled to a halt as he started dumfounded at Harry, who stared blankly out the window, no doubt lost in his own thoughts. Why? Why, why, why, why, why! What was wrong with this boy? "Are you daft, Potter?" he hissed when his voice finally returned to him. "I know the prophecy now! The one the Dark Lord has been dying to know! You'll be destroyed the minute I tell him!" His heart clenched in his chest at his own words.

Harry's shook his head. "Will I?" he said softly. "Though I know it will be very hard for you as a veela, I don't care. If I die, I die. Sure, I'll fight like hell but for the people who rely on me to kill him, that's their problem. I'm not immortal like some people seem to think. No one should solely rely on me, one boy, to get rid of him."

Unbidden, a smirk crossed Draco's lips while his veela screamed inside his head. "We'll win this world. We'll kill of the ones like your precious friends. Mudbloods and blood traitors."

Harry's eyes suddenly snapped over to Draco's face. "You mean the ones that are completely oblivious?" he spat. "The ones that don't realize how manipulative Dumbledore is and follow him around blindly like he's some sort of god? Go ahead! I'll be glad to be rid of them!" For a few solid seconds, they stared at each other, Harry's suddenly ragged breath the only sound until he broke the silence. "No, that's a lie," he murmured, raising a hand to his face to rub the bridge of his nose. "I do care for some of those people. And they depend on me, just like everyone else."

Draco was once again hit by this strange emotion rolling off of Harry. He was all too familiar with it himself and he hated it. Why couldn't he just cling to how he had seen Harry in the past - a spoiled little brat, following Dumbledore around like the others he was talking about. His views of the Gryffindor "Golden Boy" were crumbling, replaced by the boy across from him - broken and forced to grow up too fast; pinned with responsibility, just like him. As he leaned over Harry, both sides of him ceased arguing with each other and let him think more clearly.

Was he to do what he had been brought up to do? Did he serve a horrible master and live his life under the boot of another wizard? Or did he stand by this boy – his mate. He could see that Harry had just about given up and was ready to let happen what would.

A shiver ran though him. He couldn't allow that to happen. Harry had been his only consolation. Even if he gave himself to the Dark Lord, Harry would be there to destroy him. Through his harsh words and anger, he had hoped to make Harry hate him, to be that much stronger in his rage at the final battle.

This image of Harry sitting weakly before him wouldn't do. Not at all. But how was he supposed to tell his sworn enemy that he was his last hope? How was he supposed to tell him that he wanted Harry to fight strongly against the man he was supposed to be loyal to?

Before Draco could even consider a method of telling him, Harry startled him by clearing his throat and speaking softly.

"You depend on me too, don't you? Either to fail or to win." He raked a hand through his hair and closed his eyes tight as frustration welled up in his chest. "If I die, you die." A burning built up behind his eyes. "I – I can't do that to you. For you to die just because I gave up and stopped trying." His eyes fluttered open when he felt wetness on his cheek. He was crying? "Damn you, Draco. Damn your veelan blood."

Draco quietly slid down from his seat to kneel in front of Harry. Gentle hand brushed at his cheeks, drying his tears. Then he pulled the shocked elf into his arms. "Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't regret your decision to give me a chance. Don't regret me."

"Draco…"

"Hush. Yes, you're right – I do rely on you just like everyone else. Fate picked a path for you that isn't the most pleasant. But I have to believe that after all the horrible things that have happened that somewhere in the future lies something wonderful to balance everything out. Especially now that we're connected to each other. I – even though I know how dangerous it will be for me, I will stand by you now." His arms tightened around Harry. "Just promise me that you'll keep trying, no matter what."

Harry sat in Draco's arms, shocked at the emotions pouring out and the words that spilled from his lips. He was promising his life in return for hope. How could hope – no, how could _he_ be worth that? Harry's head spun with questions he couldn't hope to answer and he wished they would just shut up. Slowly he suppressed them, quieted them enough to think about Draco's proposal. Could he?

"I – I promise," he murmured. "I promise to try my hardest to stay alive. No matter what."

Draco sighed deeply into Harry's hair and rubbed his back awkwardly. "And I promise to stand beside you. No matter what."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Psh. I wish I owned then.

**Warning:** It's slash, I say! SLASH!

**A/N:** Aren't you all just thrilled at how random I am at getting chapters out? No? Darn. Anyway, I'm saying this again: for those who haven't already checked back, you really need to. I mean it. **The first six chapters have been rewritten. If you don't go back and read, you'll be confused. This is the last time I'm reminding you. Now go!**

**--**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Nine**

Silence held the two boys together in a long moment where they wanted nothing more than to forget about their worldly troubles and remain as they were in this moment in each other's arms. If they could just stay like this for a little while longer…

A crash from the neighboring compartment jolted the two apart. Both shifted awkwardly and tried to subtly scoot away from the other, realization of what they had been doing dawning on them. Actual serious affection between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy was taboo, unheard of, and was not to happen again in the near future. Neither would let it happen or admit to having liked it even a little. A silent pact between men.

"We should change into out robes," Harry suggested.

Draco nodded his agreement and stood up. "I'll be back in a minute."

Once Draco was gone from the compartment, Harry slumped against the seat, a hand over his heart. He couldn't understand it. Why had the hug affected him so much? He had taken the potion and he was pretty sure that Draco hadn't been using his allure. So why? Why had his heart beat so fast? The only way things would make sense was that Harry was starting to actually like Draco and the idea wasn't appealing to him just yet. No, not yet.

But damn. So soon?

Shoving the thoughts away, Harry stood and dragged his trunk down from the rack. It fell on the seat with a heavy thump and Harry frowned at it before lifting the lid and pulling a set of robes from the top. The idiots in the other compartment must have pulled their trunk down onto the floor instead of the seat. First years, maybe.

Draco sauntered back in as the train started slowing down, already dress in his robes. Harry glanced up from his truck to raise an eyebrow at him and shut the lid on his trunk. At a slight jerk from the train, Harry fell back onto the compartment floor while Draco braced himself on the seat. Sneering down at the elf, Draco held out a hand to help him up.

"Graceful as usual," he said, grinning.

Harry glared at him, but took his hand. "You don't have to make fun of everything I do, you know."

"Oh, but I do," Draco said as he turned to the door. "And it's so easy."

Harry snorted and followed after him. "It may be easy, but I still wish you wouldn't do it."

Out on the platform, eyes were immediately drawn to the strange pair. Some even stopped dead in their tracks. What was going on? Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in close proximity to each other without fighting? When had hell frozen over?

Harry glanced sideways to see Draco grinning. "Stop smirking like that," he hissed. "This is not funny."

"If you don't want so many people staring at you, cover your ears better," the blond retorted. "You also didn't have to wear those pants. Although, I believe just seeing the two of use walking together is giving them enough reason to stare."

As they neared the carriages, a flash of red caught Harry's eye and he groaned. "Damn."

Frowning, Draco followed his gaze to see Ron with Hermione in tow and Pansy with Blaise right behind them. He sighed. "My sentiments exactly."

"Ron," Harry said warningly when they were close enough to hear him. His tone went ignored.

"Harry, step away from him right now!"

"Explain to me why you're friends with him again?" Draco murmured, earning a flash of irritation from Harry and a returned 'shut up.'

"Harry!"

Sighing, Harry turned back to Ron to see the redhead's wand trained on Draco. "Ron, put your wand away. He hasn't done anything."

"Like hell he hasn't! What-"

"Ron, don't you think you should find out what's going on before you accuse him of anything," Hermione said desperately.

"I agree," Blaise said dully, pulling his hand free of Pansy's grip.

"I don't care!"

Irritated, Harry stepped forward and snatched Ron's wand from his hand. "Calm the fuck down," he snapped, touching Ron's shoulder. His hand glowed blue for a second and Ron's expression went blank. Sighing, Harry shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "That might have been a bit too much."

With a mumble from Draco, Harry rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips with a stern look. "Alright, the carriages are going to end up leaving without us, so either everyone scatter or fuck off. Dumbledore will more than likely inform the whole damn school, so you can hear it there. I am not in the mood to deal with people unless I absolutely have to."

A moment of silence passed over them, mainly from shock for everyone but Draco, who was already used to Harry's recent tendency towards cussing when he was frustrated. He could sympathize, though. He had expected cussing in their arguments, but he had been shocked speechless when Harry got worked up when attempting to practice using his elven powers.

Rolling his eyes, Draco captured Harry's wrist and pulled him away from Ron. "We should hurry."

Pansy's eyes went wide and she rushed to Draco's side, detaching his hand from Harry's wrist. "C'mon, Dray. Let's go to another carriage," she pleaded.

Draco didn't even bother glancing at her and pulled his arm out of her grasp to lead Harry to a carriage. Harry gave him miffed look when he opened the door for him and then ignored the gesture (Draco shrugged and went in himself) to turn back to their companions.

"Hermione, you might what to help Ron. He looks a little incapacitated. Sorry about that."

Hermione gave a quick nodded and gently took the redhead's arm to direct him towards the carriage.

One by one, everyone filtered into the carriage, fitting comfortably thanks to an expanding charm from Blaise. Pansy, the last one to approach the carriage, found herself stopped by Harry. "I wouldn't sit next to Draco if I were you."

Ron's blank gaze turned towards the doorway. "Why'd ya call 'im Draco, Harry?" he said, sounding as if his tongue was too think for proper speech.

Harry tossed a glance over his shoulder at Ron. "Don't worry about it, Ron," he said softly.

Tossing her head, Pansy huffed and pushed past Harry to stubbornly sit right next to Draco.

In the next moment, Harry was in front of her, wand in her face and green eyes flashing. "Move."

Pansy's wand was in her hand as well, pointed at his chest. "Try it, Scarhead," she hissed.

"Really, do you guys know nothing?" Hermione suddenly huffed, waving her hand in the air in exasperation. "You can't cast any spells in the carriages. It's one of the first things talked about, 'Hogwarts, A History'. Put your wands away."

Harry cast a glance back at Hermione before lowering his wand. Not that he had needed it in the first place. "Move, Parkinson. I don't need a wand to make you move."

"No," she hissed back.

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Just leave it, Harry. She's just as stubborn as you are."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly cut off by Pansy, who turned towards Draco, eyes wide and questioning. "Harry?"

Draco sighed again. "Yes," he said quietly, deftly snatching her wand from her hand. "Now be quiet."

Moodily, Pansy crossed her arms and slumped against the back of the seat. "Fine."

Harry shook his head and put his wand away. Giving Pansy a sideways glance, he rolled his eyes and sat on Draco's other side. "Is that some kind of magic?" he muttered, elbowing Draco in the side. "Everyone listens to you."

Draco snorted. "Everyone but you."

Pansy glared past Draco at Harry. "Do you mind, Potter? Don't act so friendly with him!"

Harry's eyes snapped over to hers. "I'll do whatever the bloody hell I want," he snarled. "Mind yourself."

"Again with the vulgar language," Blaise muttered, a small smirk touching his lips. "Interesting."

Pansy shot up, hands on her hips. "Shut up, Blaise!" she snapped. "Keep your _filthy_ hands off of him, Potter! Nobody wants a little chit like you hanging around, so do everyone a favor and jump out a window!"

Draco had been listening disinterestedly at first, his anger slowly growing with each word that came from Pansy's mouth, that anger slowly pounding with rhythm in his skull. He barely even noticed that he had stood up, his want level with Pansy's eyes until her eyes were focused on him. Magical energy was crackling around him, nearly visible in its intensity, and definitely felt by the other members in the carriage. "Sit down, don't say another word about Harry, and you might live to see the school," he said sharply, anger rippling under every word, much to the surprise of everyone there. He barely even noticed what he was saying. All he knew was this girl was saying things to _his_ mate, being rude to _his_ mate, and he wasn't going to stand for it.

Realizing that the limit of Draco's control over his veelan instinct to protect his mate had been reached, Harry quickly reached out and brushed Draco's arm, his fingers glowing softly. "Draco," he said slowly. "It's all right. I'm okay." He drew his hand back, sure that the wave of calm that he had sent through the blond's body would be enough to restrain the enraged veela.

Pansy was left staring at the two in shock as she fell back down in her seat, slowly gathering her senses back together. "Why in the world are you standing up for Potter?" she whispered. "Of all the people, why him?"

Harry and Draco's eyes met, questioning the other if they wanted to be the one to say it.

Sighing, Hermione scooted forward, making the decision for them. "I've gathered that Malfoy is a veela. You're life mates, correct?"

Harry smiled briefly at her. "I knew you wouldn't need anyone to tell you. Good job, Hermione."

Blaise rubbed his chin. "Now that you mention it, that would explain a lot." He leaned closer to Hermione, grinning. "You're brilliant, you know."

Ron, who had been staring blankly at the floor, lifted his head curiously. "Mates?"

"Yes, Ron," Hermione said, leaning away from Blaise a little. "Harry, do you think you could relax your powers on Ron a little bit?"

"It's already wearing -"

"Mate my arse!" Pansy suddenly snapped. "Bullocks!"

"Watch your mouth," Draco growled. Harry lightly touched Draco's arm, drawing his attention to him.

"Calm, okay?" he said softly.

"Yeah, yeah."

Pansy watch the interaction in amazement, her cheek flushing red. "I can't believe Draco would want this. There has to be a way to get rid of it."

Harry sighed heavily and placed the heel of his palm on his forehead. "If we break the bond, Draco dies," he said, cringing at his own words. It was a tribute to how much he had grown attached to Draco that it hurt him to even think about it.

Pansy grew pale and she swallowed quietly. The situation washed over her and she gaped a little before speaking. "You… you won't do that, right? Potter?" Her voice cracked a little. Despite her annoying countenance and irritating mouth, she really did care for Draco. Not in a loving way, but like a sister would. "I mean, it would be pointless for you to. It would be overreacting right? You may not like him - and I know-"

"You're rambling," Hermione said, cutting her off. She looked over at Harry and smiled. "Harry wouldn't do that, even if Draco was a complete arse to him."

"Of course he'll do it!" Ron snapped suddenly as he jumped to his feet. He swayed a little as he fixed Harry with a stern look. "You'll reject him right now, won't you Harry?"

Harry stared up at the redhead in surprise. "No, Ron," he said firmly.

"Harry, he works for You-Know-Who! Are you crazy? He'll turn you in!"

"If that were true," Harry interrupted softly, "I would not be here right now."

"He's just waiting for the right moment!" Ron shouted desperately, pointing an accusing finger at Draco.

Harry was on his feet in an instant, placing himself between Draco and Ron in the small pace. "He's had plenty of opportunities to turn me in and I'm still here. I trust him, Ron." His quiet tone shook slightly. "Try to support me in this. Please."

Ron's face flushed and he balled his hands into fists. "Support you? This is insane! He's a fucking-"

"Shut up!"

Ron fell back in his seat in shock, staring up at his best friend.

Draco lightly touched Harry's shoulder. "How do you know that I won't do it?"

Harry looked back at Draco. He didn't believe that Draco was so loyal to Voldemort that he would be willing to sacrifice his life for the cause. From all that he had learned over the past few days, he knew that if they completed the bond together, the veela in Draco would refuse to let him give Harry over. But at this level, at this point in their relationship, there was a chance that Draco could still live if Harry died.

"Draco," he said softly. "Don't doubt me. I've said it before and I'm saying it again." He turned, gently grasping his hands in his own. "I trust you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Don't own. Would love to, though.

**Warning:** Do you flee at the sight of gays? I'd start running now.

**A/N:** I've put all of my active fanfictions in a list, so instead of jumping from fiction to fiction, there will be a set order when things will be worked on and updated. Also, in college now and working my ass off, so updates might be even slower until I can work in usable free time. I'm stuck using Google Docs too. Pfft.

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love - Chapter Ten**

There was an awkward silence in the carriage as they reached Hogwarts, the slight jolt the only thing to tell them it had stopped. Draco gave Harry an almost imperceptible nod before moving to open the door. Glances were thrown around the carriage as everyone waited for someone else to break the moment apart. Finally, Ron stood up and, hands shoved in his pockets, he kicked the door open and ducked out into the night air. As Hermione was about to stand and follow after him, she looked up to find Blaise offering his arm to her.

"Shall we?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

She glanced after Ron with a small frown before shrugging her shoulders and linking her arm with Blaise's as she stood. "If we're going to freak out Hogwarts with those two, we might as well go all out, right?"

"Quite," Blaise replied with a fox-like grin as he helped her out of the carriage.

Harry smiled as the two exited the carriage, secretly thrilled that Hermione was accepting of his situation. He could only hope that Ron would follow her example soon.

With a sigh, he turned to Pansy, his lips quirked to the side as he bit the inside of his cheek in consideration. "You know, you're not that bad of a person, Parkinson."

Pansy snorted. "Of course, Potter," she said with a flip of her hair. "Took you long enough to notice."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Harry smiled. "Dumbledore's influence had me a little biased, so you'll have to forgive me."

Rolling his eyes, Draco fell into step between them, gently urging them forward. "Careful, Potter. Don't get her rambling on that. She can go on forever about his prejudice to our house."

"House unity my ass," Pansy snarled in response.

Harry let out another laugh, softer this time. "I think that's a subject for a time when people aren't trying to listen in." He cast his eyes around at the other students eying them curiously. "Should I sit with you and make things obvious or sit with my house and let Dumbledore tell the school?" he asked Draco absently as he glared faintly at a pair of second-year Ravenclaws until they stopped staring.

"They'd eat you alive!" Pansy interjected cheerfully.

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione said softly, twisting slightly so she could look back at him.

"Oh, come on Granger," Pansy sneered. "We know you never would. You're such a wuss. How you ended up in Gryffindor is beyond me."

"I am not a wuss! Where do you get off saying something like that!"

Sighing, Blaise tightened his hold on Hermione's arm and leaned closer to her. "You're going to have to prove it."

Startled, Hermione jerked her head away from his and glared at him. "Don't do that!" she snapped. "I don't have to prove anything."

"So you are a wuss," Pansy chimed.

Deciding that the argument was turning into a fight, Draco rolled his eyes and finally interrupted. "Look, I don't care who sits where, but if we don't hurry up, we'll be the last ones in the Hall. I realize that we're the center of attention already, but there's no need for a grand entrance." Heeding Draco's words, the group quickened their pace.

"I'm sitting with you, Draco," Harry said softly, moving his wand up the sleeve of his robe discreetly.

"Suit yourself," Draco said with a shrug, following suit when he saw the motion.

Blaise, having glanced over his shoulder at the right time, noticed the precaution and snorted. "Paranoid, Potter?"

Harry gave him a flat stare. "I have every right to be paranoid. I can't imagine you not doing the same when venturing over to the Gryffindor table. Unless you're that full of yourself."

Blaise blinked at Harry a few times in surprise before bursting into laughter. "I'd watch him, Drake. He may look like a lion, but he bites like a snake."

"Enough about snakes and lions," Hermione snapped quickly. "Why are we going towards the Slytherin table? I'm not sitting there."

Blaise slowed to a stop beside his house table, smiling charmingly down at the brunette. "Oh really?" he asked sweetly as he gently forced her to sit down. "It certainly looks like you are." Grinning, he sat down beside her.

Hermione balled her hands in her lap, face turning red. "This is ridiculous."

"You'll get over it," Blaise cooed, placing an arm around her shoulder.

Harry shook his head at Blaise's antics and sat down across from Hermione, ignoring the glares and shocked looks from the school population. His nerves relaxed slightly once Draco was seated next to him. The blond sent a glare down the table, effectively silencing the whole of the Slytherin house. Unfortunately, the rest of the Hall seemed to be immune. Just as Harry was finding that he could manage to ignore the rest of the students, a sudden commotion burst out from the other side of the room. Looking up, Harry saw Ron rounding the Gryffindor table with Dean Tomas trying unsuccessfully to slow him down.

"Well shit," he muttered, lowing his head so he could rub the bridge of his nose.

Hermione followed his gaze and sighed heavily. "Should have seen this coming."

"Malfoy, take whatever spell you put on them off right now!" Ron snarled as soon as he was feet away from the table. When his hand went to his back pocket for his wand, Harry stood up abruptly.

"Don't you dare, Ronald Weasley," Harry said sharply. "Leave it. I do not want to deal with this right now."

"Are you kidding me?" Ron asked, his voice raising slightly in pitch. "That ferret has done something, I just know it!"

"This is not something to be discussing in front of the entire school."

"Harry..."

Frustrated, Harry slammed his hands down on the table and a strong breeze suddenly picked up, ruffling his hair and clothes. "I said drop it!"

A shocked silence engulfed the hall as the breeze surged briefly, then dissipated. A throat cleared beside them and Harry noticed for the first time that the headmaster had moved from his seat at the head table.

"What's going on here?" Dumbledore asked softly, his blue eyes twinkling pleasantly.

Ron quickly jumped at the opportunity. "Malfoy has Harry and Hermione under some sort of spell, Professor!"

Casting a disbelieving look at Ron, Harry spoke up. "With all due respect, Headmaster, this is a personal matter."

The twinkle disappeared from Dumbledore's eyes and a frown creased his brow. "Ah. Mr. Weasley, they are not under any kind of spell. The castle would have informed me the moment the spell was cast or when they stepped on school grounds. I am surprised, however that Harry has not told you of his situation with Mr. Malfoy."

Harry snorted. "I did tell him. He's gone into denial."

"You only said it because he's got you under imperio!"

Dumbledore place a firm hand on Ron's shoulder. "That's quite an accusation, Mr. Weasley. As I have said, the castle would have informed me if any of my students were under a spell, especially one as harmful as that. Now, let us all calmly return to our own tables and discuss this matter later. That includes you as well, Harry. It is not absolutely necessary for you to be near Mr. Malfoy at the moment."

The air in the hall grew restless as Harry stared back at the Headmaster, eyes narrowed slightly.

Sensing an impending eruption from Harry, Draco sighed and finally spoke up. "But Headmaster, were you not the one asking for house unity? Potter and Granger are merely sitting with us, not starting a fight. Surely you wouldn't tell us not to do something you have been asking for since first year?" Draco's voice was smooth and compelling, though his eyes met Dumbledore's challengingly. All eyes were on him now.

Taken aback, Dumbledore studied Draco carefully before suddenly turning to beam at Harry. "Of course, of course. If they wish to stay they can. Move along now, there's a sorting ceremony to start."

As Dumbledore walked away, Ron leaned between Blaise and Hermione to raise his fist threateningly at Draco. "I'm not finished with you yet, Malfoy," he hissed and then turned to return to the Gryffindor table. "Come on, Dean." When silence met his ears, he stopped and turned to see Dean eying the empty seat on Harry's other side. "Why, you...!"

Harry shot Ron a sharp glance before gesturing vaguely at Dean. "No one's stopping you from sitting here, Dean. The Headmaster's opened the gates, so to speak."

Dean hesitated for a moment before quickly rounding the table and sitting next to Harry. Furious, Ron spun on his heel, muttering angry words under his breath.

The hall suddenly burst with talk again and a few students quickly hopped over to another table just as the first years were being led in.

"Interesting example you've set, eh Harry?" Dean said humorously.

Harry nodded distractedly in agreement. While he appreciated the gesture, he wasn't sure of what to make of Dean's decision to join him at the Slytherin table. Had one of the bleating sheep finally found access to their mind? For a pessimistic moment, Harry found this unlikely.

"You look different."

Harry looked over see Dean studying him intently. "Part of my inheritance this summer," he said slowly.

"That's cool! I didn't get much of a magical inheritance. Do you have any creature blood in you?"

Harry grew wary. Dean usually became chatty when he was trying to flirt. "A little bit of elf. Don't know how much." His hand lifted briefly to his ear as he watched a rather clumsy looking first year join the Hufflepuff table.

"Wicked!" Dean said cheerfully as he reached out a hand to touch a pointed ear.

Harry quickly grabbed Dean's wrist and gritted his teeth. "Don't. Touch."

Beside him, Draco snarled quietly and clenched his fists. "Get to your table, Thomas."

Harry glanced back at Draco in mild alarm. "We're in the middle of sorting ceremony. He can stay."

"No, he can't," Draco snapped. "Leave, Thomas."

Pansy reached across the table and touched Draco's wrist. "Drackie, just ignore the idiot for now," she said soothingly.

"Now."

"Draco," Harry hissed, growing aware of the eyes turning to them. "Are you trying to cause a scene?"

Dean suddenly laughed and pat Harry on the shoulder. "It's okay. He has every right to be possessive. I'm a little jealous of him, to be honest." In quick succession, he kissed Harry on the cheek and retreated to the other side of the hall. Shocked, Harry gaped at him as he roughly ran his hand across his cheek.

The hall fell silent once more. Even the Sorting Hat seemed to sense what was going on and had pause on its announcement of the placement of the first year sitting under it. Hermione was the first to react when Draco stood up from the table and started moving, fury rolling off of him in waves. Seeing Harry still staring after Dean in shock, she hissed at him. "Harry!"

His eyes followed hers and he was on his feet as well. "Shit!" He caught Draco by the arm before he was halfway across the hall and bodily hauled him out of the room. There was a muffled eruption of chatter once the doors closed behind them and Harry quickly formulated ten ways to slowly kill Dean Thomas for causing the scene.

"Let me go," Draco hissed as he struggled against Harry to get to the doors. "I'll kill him for touching what's mine!"

"Hey!" Harry firmly place his hands on either side of Draco's face, forcing him to look at him. "As flattered as I am that you are so possessive of me, he is not worth the effort."

"Nobody touches what's mine!" Draco growled out, though he calmed slightly under Harry's touch.

"Merlin, Malfoy! What are you going to do? Murder every person that so much as looks at me now?"

"He didn't just look at you."

"You were irritated far before he kissed me!" Harry tore away from Draco, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself.

"You probably liked it," Draco spat out angrily, his Veela Rage rising again. "Didn't you, Potter!"

"Don't make a habit of automatically assuming the worst from me," Harry spat back without turning around. "Believe me, if he pulls something stupid like that again and you don't get to him first, I'll beat the shit out of him."

Draco huffed and crossed his arms. "So you don't like him."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned. "I don't like people who change their opinion of me on a whim."

"Maybe you aren't so stupid after all," Draco drawled.

"Oh, har har, Malfoy."

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall opened, admitting Dumbledore into the corridor. Smiling, he closed the doors behind him and stepped towards them. "I trust that everything is well now. No more Veela Rage?"

"I believe you already know that, sir," Harry said levelly. "We can handle this, so there's no need to bother yourself."

"Ah, well, at least return to the Feast," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Sorry. We don't have much of an appetite right now."

"Then I will show you to your dorm."

"I'm not daft, Professor. I know where the tower is."

"You will not be returning to the Gryffindor tower for dorming, Harry."

Harry paused. "What?"

"The two of you will be rooming in a dorm separate from the other Houses for both of your well being and Mr. Malfoy's peace of mind."

"You've warned the whole school then."

"Naturally. They have a right to know and now Mr. Malfoy can legally use his Veela Rights. The student body has been warned to not interfere unless the wish to suffer the consequences at the hand of a possessive veela." Dumbledore chuckled lightly.

Harry sighed. "What about classes?"

"Fortunately, yours and Mr. Malfoy's class choices were very similar so we were able to combine them. You will have all of the same classes and in December, Professor Snape has offered to tutor you on anything that you cannot learn on your own."

Harry nodded solemnly, masking the flash of panic at remember Mating Season. "If that's all..."

"Actually, Harry, there is something I need to speak with you about. At your convenience, of course."

The air in the corridor suddenly grew restless. Harry new exactly what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. He glanced over at Draco and saw that he too could guess what Dumbledore wanted. The look on his face was sour. "Of course. Our rooms?"

"Follow me," Dumbledore said cheerfully, heading towards the stairs. "The entrance to your rooms will be across from the library. I've placed Sir Cadogan there to guard the door."

"No," Harry said sharply. "I refuse to have him guarding our rooms."

"It's just a stupid portrait, Potter," Draco muttered.

Harry gave Draco an irritated glance. "Yes, it is stupid. That's why I don't want to deal with it."

The two brooded in silence as the climbed the stair after Dumbledore, casting glares at each other every now and then.

"What's the password?" Draco asked finally, ignoring Harry's pointed look when the knight appointed as their guard started shouting.

Dumbledore failed to notice their irritation with each other and happily offered that name of a muggle candy.

When they stopped in front of the portrait, Sir Cadogan greeted them loudly, causing Harry to wince. When the knight attempted to start up a conversation with Dumbledore, the air in the corridor turned cold. Sighing, Draco quickly interrupted what promised to be a long string of pleasantries with the password and firmly pulled Harry with him when the portrait swung forward. The door pulled itself shut behind them, leaving Dumbledore outside.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary:** Draco has to learn what love is after a life without being shown any. Can Harry, who is unexpectedly his mate, show him what it's like to truly be loved? SLASH

**Disclaimer:** Holy shit, would thing have been different if I owned them…

**Warning:** It's called SLASH for a reeeeason.

**A/N:** It's unbetaed. Sorry in advance for random typos.

**---**

**Show Me The Meaning Of Love – Chapter Eleven**

Once inside the sitting room of their dorm, Draco grabbed both of Harry's wrists and spun him around to face him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me?" Harry snarled, twisting his hands free of Draco's hold. "What the hell is wrong with **you**?"

Draco's face twisted into a sneer and his voice rose to a yell. "It's just a stupid portrait! Stop acting like a spoiled child. You can't just demand another portrait."

Harry frowned and turned away from the blond. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said softly.

"Like hell I don't!"

"You don't know that portrait like I do."

"It doesn't fucking matter!"

"Stop fucking yelling at me!" Harry suddenly snapped, spinning around. His head started aching and he felt a familiar tug at the back of his mind.

"Yeah, sure! I'll stop yelling! And fucking coddle you like everyone else!" Draco stepped up to Harry and gripped his shoulders hard enough to make him winced. "Everyone does what Saint Potter says because he's the fucking Golden Boy of the Light! Get over yourself, Potter! You fucking sod!"

Harry's face went pale and he started shaking violently. "Don't touch me!" He shoved Draco away from him and backed into the wall. When he slid down to the floor, Draco was shocked from his anger and he watched as Harry curled up on himself. It took him a few seconds to realize what he had done before he rushed forward and kneeled in front of Harry. Pride stopped him from pulling him into a hug.

"Shit, Harry. I'm sorry." When he reached out a hand to touch him, Harry flinched away, his green eyes flicking from him to the door. Guilt flooded Draco and he bit his lip. During their fights at the summer house, Draco had discovered that certain words or phrases that he yelled at Harry would trigger a flashback and send him cowering into a corner. Each time this happened, Draco vowed that he would torture and kill the man who had done this to his mate.

When Harry flinched from him again, Draco reached forward with both hands and placed them on either side of his head, carefully avoiding the delicately pointed ears. "Harry, look at me. Look at me." When Harry's eyes finally met his, he smiled softly. "Relax, you silly elf. He's not here."

Harry blinked at Draco a few times before his breathing slowed and his face regained its color. When the tension completely drained out of him, Harry shook his head slowly. "If this is what it takes to get you to truly smile every once in a while, I don't think I want you smiling."

Draco snorted and pulled away, his smile disappearing. "You need therapy."

"You say that as if I don't already know that."

"It's good that you understand. Just know that I'll be paying for it."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the blond. He still wasn't comfortable with Draco buying things for him. Grunting, he decided not to restart that argument and glanced around the room instead.

"Merlin," he groaned. "It's Christmas decorating gone wrong. Who the hell furnished our rooms?"

At Harry's declaration, Draco frowned and turned to glance at the sitting room. 'Christmas decorating gone wrong' was an apt term. The room was covered with bright reds and greens. The two house banners hanging on either side of the fireplace spoke of the decorator's intentions.

"Ah, it seems Dumbledore is trying to give us a hint," Draco drawled, gesturing at the banners.

Harry glanced at the banners and sighed. "There will be no house unity as long as he continues to let our two houses fight like we do. This is a poorly constructed message. It would have been better had he combined the banners." Harry walked slowly up to the Gryffindor banner and grabbed hold of it, running his fingers along the fringe at the bottom of the fabric. "He wants to remind me where I was placed." With a violent tug, the banner fell from its mounting and floated to the ground. "I want no part in it," Harry said softly as he gathered the silk in his arms and tossed it into the fireplace. Draco half expected Harry to pull down the Slytherin banner as well, but he never glanced at it as he drew is wand and set fire to the red and gold fabric.

Draco cleared his throat. "We'll fix the room later. There's no way I'm living like this."

Harry snorted and turned away from the fireplace. "Of course." He glanced around the room again and sighed when he saw three other doors, one white, one red, and one green. "I think I'll want to change my room first," he said blandly as he walked towards the red door. He paused with his hand over the handle before swinging the door wide and stepping inside. "Fucking hell," he muttered as he slammed the door shut behind him. Draco chuckled, having caught a glimpse of mostly gold furniture with red accents. He glanced over at the green door and frowned. That would be the first thing that changed. No one colored a door to a room like that. That was just tacky.

A few minutes later, both boys emerged from their rooms, laughing at each other when their doors turned out to be the same dark brown color.

"Did you keep yours the same?" Harry questioned, seeing green fabric draped over the bed in Draco's room before he closed the door.

Draco snorted. "No. Everything was silver. Metallics are bad as a main color."

Harry winced and nodded in agreement. His eyes trailed over to the remaining door and he suddenly groaned. "Damn."

Draco's eyes lifted from their study of the red and green floor rug in front of the couch and he frowned at Harry. "Problem?"

"If you haven't noticed," Harry started slowly, "we have to share the bathroom." He lifted a hand to point at the white door.

Draco watched Harry silently for a moment before rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. "Bloody fantastic," he drawled walking towards the door. "I have to give up my time for you. I get it first."

Harry suppressed a taunt about the 'girlish' amount of time Draco usually spent in the bathroom and turned towards the sitting area with a vague grunt. "I'll see what I can do in here then."

"Good luck," Draco muttered, shutting the door behind him.

In comparison to the sitting room and their bedrooms, the bathroom appeared rather tame, though the yellow of the counter and tub gave Draco a queasy feeling. That would have to change before he could start getting ready for bed.

He started with the two wicker baskets containing his and Harry's toiletry items, a thoughtful addition which would have been more appreciated had the baskets themselves not been the same sickly yellow as the counter. When he was satisfied with his changes to the room, he reached for his basket, pulling out his toothbrush. The large sandstone floor tiles stayed their natural color and the tub, counter, and cabinets were changed to black. All other items, like the towels and baskets, were Slytherin green, something Harry would just have to deal with if he didn't like it. When Draco settled into his nightly routine, a small voice that suspiciously sounded like Harry reminded him of all the time the elf had teased him about spending so much time in the bathroom. He grunted and picked up his leisurely pace.

He exited the bathroom ten minutes later only to freeze outside the door, eyes shut at the sudden onslaught of color.

"Potter, what… in the world… are you on?" he hissed as he forced his eyes to open. The room seemed to be cut into sections, each abruptly meeting the next as color styles from contemporary to rustic each had their chance at the room. Harry sat half asleep on the couch, now colored a deep blue with silver trimmings, his wand almost falling from his fingertips as his head dipped dangerously close to his chest. At Draco's statement, he shook himself awake, looking around the room in confusion.

"Huh, did I do this?" Sleepy green eyes wandered over the black and white floor rug at his feet. "I didn't even realize…" He trailed off, glancing over at Draco, his face heating up slightly in embarrassment.

Draco huffed in annoyance as he walked over and helped Harry to his feet. "You go to sleep. I don't trust you with this anymore." He pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. "I'll do it."

Harry glared over his shoulder in light protest. "I can do it. I was just distracted."

"Sure you can, Potter. Go."

Harry sighed and pocketed his wand. When he entered the bathroom, he paused in the doorway, frowning. "Nice, Malfoy. How typically Slytherin of you." The now black door was shut lightly behind him.

"Glad you like it," Draco drawled as he flicked his wand at the walls, turning them white with black trimmings around the doors and floorboard. The stone floor turned darker in color and the wooden furniture, like the table most likely provided for homework, was turned to a light ebony, practically black if one didn't look too closely. The rest of the furniture he turned deep blue with silver trimmings. He would never admit that he picked the color because of the way it offset Harry's eyes moments earlier. No, he wouldn't even admit it to himself. At least, not yet.

He stood in front of the fireplace, staring down at the dying fire and the ashes of the Gryffindor banner before looking up at the Slytherin banner still hanging on the wall. It only took him a few moments to consider it and he simply banished it with a wave of his wand just as Harry stepped out of the bathroom, looking around appreciatively.

"You have a better sense of style than I do," Harry said softly, running long fingers through his hair.

Draco sneered over at him, turning his back to the hearth as he pocketed his wand. "Of course I do. I'm a Malfoy. It's easy to have more style than someone who has none, don't you think?" His eyes lingered on Harry's layered shirts hiding under his robes as if to emphasize his point. He wasn't going to think about the pants, oh no he was not. As much as he teased Harry for his bad sense of dressing style - one simply did not layer shirts of colors that did not go together and orange and green did **not** go together - he was almost glad for it. After seeing Harry finally put on those pants, he was afraid of how the public would react to Harry Potter dressing properly for once in his life. Dean Thomas's actions were enough proof that he was going to have to fight everyone off with a stick the day that Harry gained some fashion sense.

No, no, no, he did not just think that. Damn.

"You know that would imply that you're more feminine than me." Harry was smirking at him.

Draco scowled. "Having a sense of style does not make you a woman, Potter," he replied haughtily. "It is a culturally rounded thing."

Harry started laughing, holding an arm across his stomach as mirth danced across his face in a pleasant manner. Draco found himself biting his tongue, not for the first time since he had brought Harry home with him. Laughter looked good on Harry - he would admit that, it was undeniable.

Then, suddenly, Harry's smile fell and his eyes widened a little, his bottom lip drawn into his mouth. Draco sudden smirked, walking quietly across the floor to stand in front of him. He knew that look. It meant that Harry had just thought of something embarrassing and anything that embarrassed Harry Potter, Draco wanted to know.

"What did you just think about?" he purred quietly, following when Harry stepped around him, obviously nervously. Harry's cheeks tinged pink and Draco's smirk grew. "Hmmm?"

Harry laughed nervously and subtly tried to scoot towards his room. Draco noticed and quickly blocked his way, arms held wide. "I wasn't thinking about anything," Harry said quickly, ducking under one of Draco's arms only to be pulled back by his robe. He made a strangled sound as he fell back on his ass. "What the hell?"

Draco was in front of him on all fours, his hands on either side of Harry's hips. "I do believe you're lying," Draco whispered, one hand lifting to brush Harry's cheek. The darkening flush told him that Harry could feel the beginnings of his allure. "If you don't tell me now, I know just the way to… convince you to spill it."

Harry cursed under his breath and scrambled away from Draco while awkwardly slipping out of his robes. Draco groaned quietly - Harry had such a nice ass and, for a brief second, it was right before his eyes. His control over his allure slipped, and for a moment, both boys were frozen, hearts pounding furiously. "You're not playing fair," Harry growled.

"Who told you that I was fair?" Draco said with a laugh, rising to his feet at the same time Harry did. "I would be much obliged to call them a liar. As it is, you use the anti-veela charm potion so often, it's only natural that I take advantage of when it wears off. Which should be about now, yes?" He stepped forward.

"As if I have to answer that, you selfish prick." Harry retreated some more, placing the couch between then.

For a second, Draco frowned at the couch before placing a hand on the back and jumping over it. His robes fluttered back down as he turned to Harry once more, a smirk on his face. "So glad you noticed."

Harry's hands lifted, ready to smack away Draco's hands if he tried to grab him, and quickly moved backwards until he bumped into one of the chairs surrounding the table. At Harry's hesitation, Draco darted forward, pushed Harry onto the chair and sat firmly on his lap, grinning at Harry's surprise.

"Get off!" Harry snapped, pushing on Draco's chest. When the blond didn't budge, Harry pushed even harder and Draco was suddenly sprawled on his back on the floor, blinking up at Harry in surprise.

"You're getting stronger," he said with a cough, his lungs greedily sucking back in air.

Harry stared down at him, then was on his feet, bolting for his room. Draco growled, quickly catching up and crashing into him, both landing on the couch, which shifted on the stone a little with the force of their fall. Draco smirked triumphantly, pinning Harry's wrists above his head. "Tell me."

Harry's jaw fell and he squirmed uncomfortably. "You're serious? What the hell, Draco, get off."

"Mmm, I don't think I want to. Now tell me."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "You know you'll have to try harder than that. You can't just demand something like that from me."

"Thanks for the invitation," Draco drawled, bringing their faces closer.

"I wasn't giving you an invitation," Harry said flatly, his hands twitching under Draco's hold.

Draco chuckled and scooted forward, sitting on Harry's stomach. "Close enough."

Harry growled in frustration. "No, not 'close enough.'" With grunt from effort, he sat up, forcing Draco to fall backwards for the second time, this time to the other side of the couch.

Draco's mouth twitched, his pride refusing to allow those muscles to form a pout. "Oh, come on, Potter." He sat up and crossed his arms. "I'm giving you one more chance to tell me before I get serious and start using the allure again."

Harry narrowed his eyes, frowning. "Now that's just cheating."

"I'm a Slytherin," Draco said simply. "Now are you going to tell me or not?"

"No, I really don't feel like being laughed at."

"You'll still be laughed at if I have to force it out of you, so why not say it now?"

"That's only if you can force it out of me. You're not trying very hard with your allure." A small smirk graced Harry's lips.

"I was being fair and giving you a chance, but if you don't tell me soon…" Draco trailed off, grinning.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Only a little."

Harry huffed. "I'm still not telling you."

Finally tired of their banter, Draco leaned across the sofa and grabbed Harry's wrists tightly, allowing his allure to spur forward. Harry shivered, eyes fluttering shut. When the elf cursed softly, Draco chuckled deeply, rubbing his thumbs over wrists that were no longer trying to escape his grasp. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

"Fuck you, I'm not telling."

Draco leaned closer and watched as Harry opened his eyes to stare at him defiantly. "You're going to make me, aren't you?"

"Make you what?"

"You just keep inviting me, don't you?" The distance between their faces grew even smaller.

"No!" Harry yelped. "Stop interpreting my words pervertedly!" When he tried to pull away, the force of the allure increased and Harry groaned as his strength seemed to evaporate.

"It sure sounds like it, Harry," Draco whispered as he drew closer, his mouth hovering close to his ear. His hands slowly made their way up Harry's arms to his shoulders. "I won't give up until you tell me."

"I - I'm sure you will," Harry stuttered, not sounding sure at all.

Suddenly the door opened without warning and Dumbledore stepped into the room. His smile turned to surprise when he spotted the two. All three stared back at each other. Harry's face turned a darker red when he realized what their position must look like to the headmaster.

"You need anything, Professor?" Draco growled, glaring darkly.

Dumbledore's smile returned. "I just wanted to check up on you and inform you that if you want to eat food in here instead of in the hall, you can summon one of the house elves." His eyes twinkled knowingly and Draco could feel Harry bristle under him as Dumbledore turned to leave without another word.

When the door shut behind the headmaster, Draco continued to scowl at the door until, finally, he lifted himself off of Harry and disappeared into his room. Harry frowned after the veela, not sure if he should be grateful or pissed off.


End file.
